


Little Boy Lost

by Alec Star (alecstar)



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blackmail, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Post-Canon, Protective Katsuki Yuuri, Protective Victor Nikiforov, References to Drugs, Tags May Change, don't equate not descriptive with not disturbing, minor deviations from canon, skating family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-09-26 21:14:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 32
Words: 32,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9922367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alecstar/pseuds/Alec%20Star
Summary: Yurio's life gets upended time and time again, as a part of his past he thought he had left behind comes back to bite him when he can least afford it. Lucky for him, he is nowhere near as alone as he thought he was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, okay a couple of things. First of all, this is my first fic in this particular fandom, my first fic in a number of years, and it is also my first attempt at posting a story to this site, so let’s see how this goes. Some previous works can be found at ff.net under the same pen name. As most of my fics, this one will be heavy on the angst, and deal with some adult issues. I must also warn you that in the continual quest for balance between avoiding spoilers, and adding the appropriate trigger warnings, I tend to err on the side of avoiding spoilers, sorry about that (and keep in mind that this is a WIP, so warnings may change as the story progresses).  
> So what are the things you should keep in mind? Well, I don’t do major character death, but everything else is fair game. On a more positive note, while there is going to be hurt aplenty, there is also going to be quite a bit of comfort, and finally, while there are no blow by blow descriptions of sex or violence, I would suggest that you don’t take too much comfort on that fact. I am of the school of thought that believes that the scariest monster is the one you don’t see, so don’t make the mistake of equating ‘not graphic’ with ‘not disturbing’.
> 
> And now a few words about my relationship with the show: I came to the YOI fandom through the fics rather than the anime, so --even though I have since watched it-- that first impression may cause the characters to come across as being a little OOC. Also, I admit I am more interested on the characters than on the skating, not to mention that I can’t tell one jump from another to save my life, so I’m going to be keeping thinks mostly off the rink.
> 
> I’ll try to update on a weekly basis, though there may be a small hiatus for a couple of weeks mid-March, as I’ll be AFK for a few days.
> 
> Okay, that’s it for now. I promise I’ll try to keep the author’s notes to a minimum, and let the writing do the talking.
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : I don't own the concepts, I don't own the characters, I make no money, I make no sense and I get no sleep (but I do feast on feedback).

Chapter 1  
(shifting Yurio/Yuuri/Viktor’s POVs)

I try to ignore the sound of the dirt raining down on the coffin even as I try to push my emotions into a box, a box I wish I could bury along with the one that... fuck, here I go again, thinking about it.

I look up, at those around me. It’s a small service. When we moved to St. Petersburg so that I could train under Yakov some five years ago my grandfather left everything behind to follow me, so it’s only my friends here. Funny how I’m suddenly thinking of the lot of them as friends rather than rivals. I blame the damned Katsudon for that one. It’s just that so much has changed in this last year, from my senior debut to this... to saying goodbye. To burying the...

Stop that, moron. It’s over, and the only one who knew is in that coffin, so why can’t you let it go once and for all? Why do you have to keep fucking digging?

I shake my head, and feel Katsudon’s hand on my shoulder.

Of course he would try to be comforting.

Well, maybe I shouldn’t be complaining. I mean, if it weren’t because Viktor had the sense to move back to Russia, and dragged his fiancé along for the ride, things would be a lot worse for me than they are. Simply put, Yakov is too much of a nag to allow me to get a place of my own —some crap about me not being old enough— and there’s no way in hell I want to stay with either him or Lilia, so yeah, getting stuck with the lovebirds is by far the lesser evil... even if seeing them making gooey eyes at each other 24/7 is enough to make me want to puke.

Still, somewhere deep down there is a part of me that’s screaming that something’s wrong. Screw that. This whole situation is incredibly fucked up. Yes, I knew this day was coming, I’ve known that since I was old enough to realize what the fact that I had a grandfather where other kids had parents actually entailed... and I knew it a couple of months ago when I won the Grand Prix. Stupid as it may seem, I was so grateful that he got to see me with that gold medal around my neck, that he got to see that I had made it, and I was grateful because deep down I knew we were running out of time.

***

I throw a glance Yurio’s way, trying to figure out what’s going through that thick skull of his. Oh, I can see that he’s upset, though he’s also doing his best to hide it. That, at least, does not come as much of a surprise. It’s just that I can’t even begin to imagine what he’s going through. I mean, I’m eight years older than he is, I am an adult, but in spite of that just the knowledge that if something were to happen to me, my family’s got my back, is one of the things that makes it possible for me to get up in the morning. They may not even be here, but I have my mom, my dad, my sister, and now I also have Viktor, but what if I didn’t? What if I were completely alone, if I were a fifteen-year-old kid whose whole safety net were one elderly man in failing health? Would I ever allow myself to let my guard down? Probably not. In fact that’s one of the things that have changed since I moved here: that I got to see past the bluster, and to understand where is Yurio actually coming from a little better. I also got to know his grandfather, and even though communicating with him wasn’t easy --to say that my Russian is pathetic would be an understatement, and he spoke neither English nor Japanese-- we did manage to bond as we exchanged a few recipes.

Well, I’m glad I have those... they are something I may be able to share with Yurio once he is ready.

The question is what are we going to do with him in the meantime. I mean, I’m glad Viktor and I can provide a home for him, but I also know enough to realize that incorporating a bereaved kid into our lives --and especially one with an attitude the size of Mount Fuji-- won’t be easy... and the fact that I’m fairly certain Viktor doesn’t know what’s about to hit us isn’t exactly helping matters.

What can I say, Viktor may be a genius on the ice, but off it... well, off it he can be a little self-centered, not to mention that he’s used to seeing Yurio as a colleague rather than a child... not that I’d ever call him a child to his face. I may not be the sanest person around, but I’m not that crazy.

And speaking of crazy, that’s also one of the areas where the fact that I’m _not_ a genius means I have an edge because both Viktor and Yurio were identified as natural talents at an early age, and from that moment forward their training was given priority over pretty much everything else, while I was always aware of the fact that my chances of making it as a pro were slim to none, so I couldn’t afford _not_ to have a back-up plan. That means that while Viktor was allowed, if not encouraged, to drop out of school as soon as it became legal for him to do so, I not only stayed in school, but also went on to earn a degree in psychology... one I suspect is going to come in handy over the next couple of years.

I let out a sigh, frustrated by the fact that I keep letting my mind wander, especially because I know right now Yurio has to come first... and that I’m going to need a strategy in order to deal with him, so the question then becomes what is he to me? A colleague and a rival? Certainly, and one whose natural talent I’m in awe of, but that doesn’t do me much good, not this time around. He is also way too old for me to think of him as my son, not to mention that he’d never go for that. That’s not how our relationship works, so what’s left? I guess the obvious answer would be a somewhat obnoxious little brother. Yes, that sounds about right, especially because he is now my rink mate, and rinks have a way of building their own kind of families, not to mention that pretty much everyone back home has already adopted him.

***

I turn around and see Yuuri trying to comfort Yuri. That’s such a relief, especially because I suspect that, if Yuuri weren’t here, I would really make a mess out of this one.

Scratch that, I suspect that if Yuuri weren’t here I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place, as I seriously doubt I would have been anyone’s first choice to take him in. As to whether or not I should be grateful for that particular development...

Now, I’m not denying that over the past year or so I’ve come to care for the kid, but let’s face it, before that I knew he was a raising star, but I had barely exchanged more than a couple of words with him. We were in different divisions, he was half my age, and I had even forgotten all about my promise to him. That’s how much he was on my radar. Now I’ve got custody of him... custody! How the hell did that happen?

Okay, so I know how that happened. I know his grandfather died, and given that he was his only living relative, it was basically either me or Yakov, and even I can tell that putting him with Yakov would have been a recipe for disaster, but still. It’s been less than forty-eight hours since his grandfather’s passing, and my life has already been completely upended. Take yesterday, for instance. As soon as they arrived Makkachin and that damned cat of his all but tore the place to pieces before making a truce and curling up to sleep together on the remains of the couch as if nothing had happened. Now I suspect the two of them are plotting a takeover.

Do I even have to say that, if you had asked me just one week ago, this is not what I imagined my future would look like?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1.

Chapter 2  
(Yuuri/Yurio POV)

I’m watching Yurio fly over the ice, looking more like himself than he has since he got that call about his grandfather. Oh, we have been here almost every day --both Viktor and I have our own training routines schedules that we can’t exactly afford to neglect, not to mention that more often than not the prospect of hitting the ice’s been the only thing capable of getting Yurio out of bed in the morning-- but today is the first time Yakov has really allowed him to cut loose, and I can already see the change in him, not that that’s particularly surprising. I don’t think there’s one of us who _doesn’t_ get it.

We’ve all been there, losing ourselves in the sound of our blades when the world gets to be too much to handle, but at the same time I also understand where was Yakov coming from, why he insisted that he take it easy for a couple of weeks. Yurio may be the strongest jumper among us, but given the speed and momentum you have to build to pull off one of those stunts, the slightest mistake can have serious consequences, and Yakov had been reluctant to take chances. Now that things are getting back to something that can almost be described as normal, he decided that the time was right for him to lift those restrictions, and Yurio seems to be determined to make up for lost time.

Of course, when I say that things are finally going back to some semblance of normalcy I mean an utterly abnormal kind of normalcy, one I admit can be both infuriating and entertaining... and also one at times I don’t know what to make of.

Take my relationship with Viktor, for instance. We are used to being somewhat silly and sappy when we are by ourselves, only we are also used to defining ‘by ourselves’ as ‘in the privacy of our own home’, now add a moody teenager with an attitude problem to that home, and the end result’s that all of a sudden our sappiness tends to be met by a chorus of disgusted gagging noises. For the most part I tend to find it amusing, though I have to admit that there’ve also been a couple of instances in which I have found myself torn between holding Viktor back when he threatens to throttle the kid, and volunteering to help hide the body.

Well, I did say that I saw Yurio as a somewhat annoying brat of a brother, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he’s acting true to form. Besides there’s also a part of me that finds the fact that he feels safe enough to gag to be oddly comforting. It may seem somewhat counterintuitive, but considering how thoroughly has his life been upended, the mere fact that he feels safe enough to be himself, that he feels safe enough _not_ to put up an act, or to try to play the perfect ‘son’, is deeply reassuring.

***

As soon as I get off the ice I grab a towel and reach for my phone, checking my messages.

The text that greets me is an odd one. It’s from an unknown number and reads ‘grandpa’s gone. time for you to man up. we’ll be in touch,’ followed by a shortened URL. My first impulse is to dismiss it. I know better than to click on those damned links, but that reference to my grandfather draws me in, especially because nothing about that message makes sense. What could the old man possibly have been involved in? He was a retired factory worker with a bad back who was doing his best to support us on a pretty pathetic pension... at least until my skating took off, and I was able to take over some of the bills. Allowing my curiosity to get the best of me, I click on the blasted thing, and feel the blood drain from my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a ridiculously short chapter that's being posted way ahead of schedule, but Viktor wasn't cooperating, and I didn't feel like stretching it to force it into what my brain felt the proper word count to be.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers, see chapter 1**  
>  Beware of the updated tags  
> -*-*- denotes a scene break while remaining with the same POV  
> *** denotes a shift in POV with or without a scene break

Chapter 3  
(Yuuri/Yurio’s POV)

I see Yuri go pale, so I wrap my arm around his shoulder, while reflexively reaching for his phone as it slips from his hand, and as I do I catch a glimpse of the screen. It takes me a moment to comprehend what I’m seeing, but somehow I still manage to both dim the screen before Viktor reaches our side, and to keep the shock off my face.

“What happened?” asks Viktor, taking the scene in.

“I don’t know. There was some sort of message, but it was in Russian,” I half lie, as Yuri all but snatches the phone from my hand, clutching it to his chest. I can feel him shaking against my side, I can see how upset he is --not that I blame him-- and I can also see that we seem to have gathered an audience, but I know this is not the time and place for us to go into it. I have to talk to Yurio alone before I do anything else... and that includes telling Viktor. I owe the kid that much. The problem’s that, no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around what I saw. Yes, the text was in Russian, but text was _not_ the only thing on that screen.

Eventually I manage to lead Yurio back to the locker room, even as Yakov yells for the lot of them to get their asses back on the ice. Okay, so he’s also yelling for Yuri to get back in there, but I ignore him.

Once we are alone, I lead him to one of the benches, and wait for him to calm down.

“You want to talk about it?” I ask after what feels like ages, and I’m not surprised to see him shake his head, though his cheeks are burning, and his eyes remain fixed solidly on the ground.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I ask, unable to help myself.

“I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!” he explodes, pulling away.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t!”

“Don’t what?” I ask, feeling more than a little lost... not that that’s particularly surprising.

“Don’t treat me like I’m going to fucking break,” he snaps.

I hesitate for a moment, wanting to give him some space, but also knowing that we _are_ getting into this, that there’s no way I’m letting this one go.

“How about we go home?” I suggest, reaching for some sort of compromise.

“What about Viktor?”

“I’ll text him to let him know where we are, but I don’t think Yakov’s anywhere near done with him for the day. That should give us a couple of hours.”

He hesitates for a moment, and I can almost see him trying to rebuild his defenses, but even though he seems to be far from happy at the prospect, he nods.

-*-*-

By the time we get back to the apartment his whole demeanor has changed, and I can see that he’s determined to fight this with everything he’s got, not that that’s particularly surprising.

“So, how do you want to do this?” I ask, letting him know in no uncertain terms that not doing it is not an option.

“Nothing for us to fucking do. This isn’t your goddamned problem!” he growls.

“Wrong.”

“Just leave me the fuck alone.”

“Not going to happen. The question’s do you want to talk to me now, or do you want to wait for Viktor to come home.”

“How about fucking neither? I said I don’t want to fucking talk about it!”

“And I told you that’s not an option. The way I see it, you’ve got three choices: you can talk to me now, and to Viktor later; we can wait for Viktor to come home, so that you only have to go over it once; or you can talk to me now, and allow me to fill Viktor in, so that I take the brunt of his initial reaction, though there’s no way that’s going to be enough to defuse this one. You may not like it, but there’s no way I’m keeping this from him.”

“It’s none of his fucking business... hell, it’s none of your goddamned business either! It was my fucking phone!”

“Wrong answer,” I reply.

He glares at me, and I feel a pang of guilt, knowing that he does have a point, but there’s just too much at stake for me to back down. Well, he did ask me not to treat him as if he were going to break.

“Talk to me, Yuri, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know, okay?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I got a text telling me that now that grandpa’s gone the time has come for me to man up, that they’d be in touch. I had no clue as to what that one was all about or who the fuck ‘they’ happened to be, but there was a link...” he trails off.

“And you clicked on it?”

He nods at that.

“So it looks like someone may have been blackmailing your grandfather for a while.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I just...”

“You just what?” I prod.

“I just don’t know what am I going to do,” he whispers, not looking up.

“Well, for starters you’re going to rephrase that into what are _we_ going to do about it.”

“There’s no fucking ‘we’ here!” he snaps.

“You’re not alone, Yurio,” I insist.

“Yeah, right!” he growls.

I ignore him, and say, “so you never answered my question: how do you want to do this?”

“I did. I told you I don’t want to fucking talk about it, that it’s none of your goddamned business!”

“And I told you that that was not an option, though I have to warn you that, if you keep trying to put this off, Viktor’s going to walk through that door, and the whole question of how you want to handle this will basically become moot, because there’s no way he’s going to let it go. You didn’t see your face back at the rink!”

“I don’t want to have to tell him,” he whispers, pulling his legs up, and sounding younger than I’ve ever heard him sound before.

“Then I’ll do it, though I can’t promise he won’t have some additional questions,” I warn him, knowing that that’s _not_ what he wants to hear.

***

I’m sitting on the goddamned couch, trying to make myself invisible. It’s not working. Well, the good news is that it’s just me and the goddamned Katsudon here. That doesn’t mean the situation doesn’t suck, but if anyone was going to find out... well, I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. The problem’s that he’s already let me know in no uncertain terms that there’s no way in hell he’s going to let it stay at that. Stupid lovebirds, with their reluctance to keep secrets from one another.

“How old were you?” he finally asks, apparently tired of beating around the bush.

“Eight,” I manage to get out, knowing what he’s going to think, how he’s going to react.

“And can you tell me what happened?”

“What, you want the whole goddamned sob story?”

“Would you call it a sob story?” he asks, catching me completely off guard. The problem’s that I just don’t know how to do this, that I don’t know where I stand, and that’s really freaking me out. Of all the things I wasn’t expecting when I clicked on that goddamned link...

“You know how I lived with my grandpa?” I finally ask.

“Yes, Viktor mentioned that your mother died back when you were little.”

“I was ten.”

“Okay,” he says, though he seems to be struggling to put the pieces together in his mind, not that I blame him. I mean, it’s not like I’m making any fucking sense here.

“I was ten, but I’d been living with my grandpa since I was eight. My mom... she was an addict, always looking to score her next fix.”

“So what happened?”

“That I got fucking lucky, that’s what!” I growl, wanting to get rid of the goddamned pity I’m sure I’d see in his eyes if I were to look up. Of course, knowing Katsudon like I do I’m pretty sure he’s going to assume I’m being sarcastic here.

“Lucky?” he repeats.

“When I was eight she...”

“She what?” he prods once it becomes apparent that I’m not going to volunteer anything else.

“I guess you could say that she found a new way to fund her habit. Now, back then I didn’t understand shit, but going by what my grandfather told me a couple of years ago, there were these dealers. She owed them a ton of money, but they... they didn’t just stick to drugs, so they...” I trail off, again, Why can’t I just say the goddamned words? Why am I making such a big deal out of this?

“They what?”

“Well, they figured I was a pretty boy, and pretty boys were one of those things they could always use more of, so they made her an offer she couldn’t fucking refuse: they would wipe her debt clean, and keep the drugs flowing, free of charge, and all she had to do in exchange was give them... me,” I blurt out, just wanting to get it over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, just a friendly reminder that authors feast on feedback (and this particular author is on the brink of starvation!)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers, see chapter 1.**  
>  Also, just a friendly reminder of the fact that I don;t like to clog my stories with a gazillion author's notes doesn't mean I don't hunger for feedback, so don't hesitate to feed the beast!

Chapter 4  
(Yuuri’s POV)

I can’t honestly say that Yurio’s words come as much of a shock --not after I caught a glimpse of that picture-- but that doesn’t make this any easier. Oh, I know this happens, I know the world is a lot darker than I’d like it to be, but this is Yuri, it’s not some abstract concept of a kid, or even a random face. It’s someone I know, a kid that’s actually living with me, one I’ve come to think of almost as my little brother, and to think that...

I shake my head at that, reminding myself that this is not about me, and that now is not the time for me to have a breakdown. Right now it’s up to me to be the adult, to set the tone for this encounter, to keep things from spiraling completely out of control, and I’m going to have to do it knowing both how much is going to be riding on the outcome, and that there’s going to be no chance for a do-over. No pressure there.

“Was it a one time deal?”

“No, she... she took me there a number of times. The first time around I didn’t know what to expect, so I wasn’t really afraid, but after that...” he trails off, sounding almost detached, and I am oddly troubled by the lack of swearing.

“But after that you were?”

“Yeah, I knew what was coming, and I hated it. I tried fighting them, but I couldn’t do it, and they got off on that too. It was like I couldn’t win... and then it got worse.”

“Worse?”

“When I stopped fighting them... it was like they had to hurt me twice as much to get the same reaction, and they were not the kind of creeps who were happy fucking a little automaton who just spread his legs and took it, so they did.”

“So how did it end?” I ask, well aware that, even though we’ve barely scratched the surface here, there’s a limit to how much I can take.

“My grandpa, he... he used to take me to the rink to cheer me up. I didn’t even own a pair of skates back in those days, but I loved it. Anyway there were quite a few people on the ice that day, and one of them smacked into me. I fell, and I was so sore that I had a hard time getting back up, so they took me to the infirmary to check me over, and as soon as they saw the finger shaped bruises on my hips... well, it was basically game over,” he explains with a shrug.

“And that’s when you moved in with your grandfather?” I prod, realizing what kind of role Nikolai played on his grandson’s life, and having a new appreciation of the magnitude of the loss Yurio was dealing with even before this whole story reared its ugly head.

“Yeah, he took me in. I already told you I was lucky.”

“Because you had your grandfather?” I ask, still trying to make sense out of that one, especially because when he first mentioned it back at the rink I thought he was being facetious, only it now seems he was being anything but.

“And because the bastards my mom got involved with were smart; because they were into kiddie porn but drew the line at human trafficking; because I was rented rather than sold,” he explains as if it were the most logical thing in the world. 

I shudder at the thought, realizing just how close I came to losing Yurio before I even met him, how easily it would have been for him to be literally lost forever, his incredible talent just gone... and how I never would’ve known. I want so much to pull him into a hug, and never let go, but I know I can’t... not yet.

“What do you mean they were smart?” I ask, focusing on the one word of his explanation that makes the least sense from my perspective, or maybe I should say that I’m focusing on the one word that seems to be the safest.

“Because they knew that having kids vanish eventually led to way too many questions, but that the chances that someone would give a damn about a few bruises on an addict’s brat were slim to none, especially if it was the addict herself who was whoring her son, and there was no father involved. That made me the perfect target. I mean, if there was one thing they knew for sure was that there was no fucking way my mom was going to be sicking the cops on them, you know?”

“But they didn’t count on your grandfather.”

“No, but even then no one really gave a fuck. I mean, they took me away from my mom, and I guess that’s something, but the bastards still got away.”

“And what about your dad?”

“Never knew who he was. In case you didn’t get it, my mom was no paragon of virtue,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and I can’t help but to wonder how messed up this situation has to be for a shift to that particular subject to come almost as a relief.

“Was she always an addict?”

“Yes,” he confirms.

“And did you ever see her again?” I ask, just wanting to wrap things up, at least for the time being. Oh, I know we’ve barely scratched the surface here, but I need some time to process, not to mention that I also know there’s a limit to how hard I can push.

“Yeah, a couple of times, just not alone...” he trails off, and something about his demeanor leads me to suspect that there is a lot more to that statement than those four simple words would seem to suggest.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1.** Also, keep in mind that authors feast on feedback, so don't be afraid to feed the beast!
> 
> Additional warnings: this chapter does contain one VERY graphic sentence. It's only some forty words long, but those forty words are explicit enough that I felt an additional heads up was warranted.

Chapter 5  
(Viktor/Yuuri/Viktor’s POV)

As soon as I arrive home I realize that this is bad.

Okay, so maybe I knew it was bad the moment I saw Yurio’s face back at the rink, but still the scene that greets me is not the one I was expecting. Yurio is nowhere to be found, and Yuuri... he looks more upset than I’ve ever seen him look before. In fact he looks downright murderous.

“Where’s Yurio?” I ask.

“In his room. I... I didn’t think it was a good idea for him to be around for this one.”

“And he agreed?” I ask, more than a little taken aback. After all, if there’s one thing I know for sure about the boy it is that he’s never been one to let others fight his battles for him.

“He wasn’t happy about it, but his unhappiness had more to do with the fact that I insisted on it happening at all than with my suggestion that he let me handle this one,” says Yuuri.

“That bad?”

“Worse. A lot worse,” he warns me.

“It’s about what happened before, isn’t it?”

“Yes, he...”

“He what?”

“He got a text. It looks like someone may have been blackmailing his grandfather for a while, and now that Nikolai’s gone, they seem to have decided that the time has come for Yuri to take over.”

“I thought you didn’t know what the message said.”

“I didn’t. Yurio told me, but then again...” he trails off.

“Then again what?”

“But then again text was not the only thing on that screen,” he admits.

“What do you mean?”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, as if he were unsure of how to proceed, but then he pulls Yuri’s phone out of his pocket, and hands it to me.

***

Knowing that the best thing I can do right about now is to get this over with I call Viktor, asking him to come home. I also ask Yurio if I can borrow his phone. To say that he’s not happy at the thought would be to understate the meaning of the word understatement, especially once he realizes what I intend to do with it. Oh, I can understand where he’s coming from, but the thing’s that Viktor can be a little obtuse even under the best of circumstances, and that if we are going to get anywhere here the first thing I’m going to have to do is get everyone on the same page, or maybe it would be more accurate to say that that’s the second thing I’m going to have to do. The first one is going to be to burst Viktor out of his icy bubble. What can I say? I may be crazy about the guy, but his life has been so sheltered that at times I feel like hitting my head against a wall. From the time he was seven training became his life. He was privately tutored by the rink side, and while that one on one attention did wonders to prepare him to deal with the spotlight --and it gave him a kind of polish I can only dream of in social situations-- he had few if any friends, and the real world never really entered the picture. Now he’s going to have to come face to face with one of its darkest aspects, and he is going to have to do it in one fell swoop.

Besides, as much as I hate pushing Yurio like I’m doing, the fact remains that that picture is there. Yuri knows about it, and it’s also seared into my retinas. That’s never going to change. That means it’s either something that’s going to unite us, or it’s something that’s going to tear us apart. To divide us into those who know, and those who don’t. Besides, if we are ever going to get Yurio to feel like he can come to us, we need to force him to let go of his secrets. That’s not going to be pretty, and I hate the fact that I’m even thinking about it in those terms, but as long as he is worried about our reactions his first response is bound to be to shut us out, and now that Nikolai’s gone he’s going to need someone who understands. In fact in that regard I would go so far as to say that the fact that he’s being blackmailed may turn out to be a blessing in disguise because otherwise he would have hit a wall sooner or later, and he would have done it while utterly convinced that he had nowhere to go, that he had no one to turn to... not without compromising some secrets he would have done anything to protect.

***

It takes a moment for my brain to even begin to process that image, to break it into its component parts, into a little boy with a look of anguish and pain in his eyes while the tears stream down his face, with one man’s cock down his throat and another up his ass, his hand reaching out in an almost pleading gesture. It takes even longer for my brain to acknowledge the fact that I know those eyes, and before I know it I find myself kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, retching violently.

I feel Yuuri coming up beside me and rubbing my back before handing me a glass of water. I rinse my mouth, but the taste of bile remains, and I wonder if it’ll ever truly go away. I close my eyes. It doesn’t help.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Yuri,” I finally manage to choke out. I had meant to phrase that as a question, but it didn’t come out right... not that it matters.

“Yes, it’s...” he trails off.

“How?” I ask, though I’m not entirely sure I want to know, and Yuuri fills me in, though he is mercifully vague on the details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I admit I'm having some trouble getting into the characters' heads here, so sorry if they seem pathetically out of character.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1.** Also remember that authors feast on feedback, so don't be afraid to feed the beast.

Chapter 6  
(Yurio’s POV)

I’m staring at the door, knowing exactly what it is that Katsudon’s showing Viktor right about now, and wondering what’s going to happen next. Oh, I know what he intends to do --sort of-- and in a way the idea of confronting Viktor with the naked truth to keep him from asking too many questions does make a twisted kind of sense because this is one of those instances in which one picture is worth a thousand words, and that shocking him into silence may be our best bet, but his plan... it’s still freaking me out. To show Viktor... I shudder at the thought, and fight the urge to hide under the covers, knowing that sooner or later he’s going to be walking through that door, and that’s not the image I want to project. The last thing I want is to have him see me as some sort of frightened child, so I force myself to stay still, to sit on the edge of the bed, but for whatever reason I can’t seem to be able to get my fists to uncurl. Funny how it is so much easier for me to let my guard down around the damned Katsudon, even though I’ve known him for less than a year. It’s just that he has this manner about him... that, and that he has never seen me as a child in the first place. To him I was always a rival, an equal, to the others, not so much. They’ve known me too long for that. For years I was more a mascot than a teammate, and that leaves me feeling like I have to fight for every little scrap of respect. I thought I was getting there, that my winning the Grand Prix would change things, but now...

I shake my head, trying to get the image off my mind, but it’s not working. Funny, I hadn’t thought of the specifics of that day in ages, but all it took was one damned picture and all of a sudden is like I’m back there, in that goddamned studio. I remember the men, their hands, their scent, their taste, and the sound of their breathing... and I remember the pain. I also remember the things that were not in that picture. I remember the guy with the camera approaching to get a better shot, and I remember reaching out to him, just wanting him to make it stop. Now that’s a laugh.

I mean, I wasn’t even a proper whore. A whore’s someone you pay to fuck them, right? Those bastards... they were actors, they were being paid to fuck me. What does that make me? A prop?

It’s over, stop thinking about it, you moron.

Okay, so I do have to think about it, just not like that. I have to figure out what the fuck am I supposed to do about this whole mess. Katsudon and Viktor, they may be freaking out about the content of that picture, but I remember the words that came with it: ‘what would your fans think?’ Funny, I’ve never given a damn about that one. My angels are too pushy, and my main concern tends to be how fast can I get the fuck away from them, not how are they going to react, but now...

I’m still thinking about that when the door bursts open, and in rushes Viktor, looking awful. He all but throws himself at me, pulling me into a hug. I can see he’s been crying, and why the fuck does he smell like puke? I hate it. My stomach was already twisted into knots, and his scent’s not exactly helping matters, but there’s also this treacherous part of me that’s incredibly relieved... a part of me that can’t quite believe he doesn’t hate me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this was yet another ridiculously short chapter, but the truth is that this particular scene didn't quite fit when I tried to incorporate it into the previous chapter, or the next one, so I decided to post it as a stand-alone way ahead of schedule.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers, see chapter 1**  
>  Oh yeah, and I also feast on feedback, so don't hesitate to feed the beast!

Chapter 7  
(Yuuri’s POV)

Once Viktor releases his death grip on Yuri I somehow manage to herd everyone into the living room.

If it were up to me I would suggest that we leave this until morning, or even that we give it a couple of days, so that we can gather our thoughts, and I can talk to Viktor alone, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to be much of an option.

Oh, I know what we’ve seen up until now is just the tip of a very nasty iceberg, but the one thing I can’t afford to forget is that while both Viktor and I are struggling to wrap our minds around today’s revelations, the fact that it is news to us doesn’t mean it is a new development, nowhere near it. What we are dealing with is an aspect of Yuri’s past that he has been living with for almost half his life, and the bottom line is that the fact that we are shocked and horrified --that we are outraged on his behalf-- is most definitely _not_ his fault. It is also something we have to be careful not to burden him with... and that’s where things are bound to get tricky.

Granted, our relationship with him is pretty good, but he can be prickly, and after today he is bound to be on high alert for any perceived change in our behavior. That’s not an ideal combination. In fact it’s something akin to a time bomb, one I feel has suddenly been dropped on my lap, and that I don’t know how to even begin to defuse.

“Okay, I think we are going to need some ground rules here,” I begin, trying to get the ball rolling. That, and to keep things from spiraling completely out of control.

“What kind of ground rules?”

“Well, what we have here... it’s a mess, and one that’s going to take us a while to sort out, but...”

“But what?” interrupts Yuri, glaring at me, and sounding incredibly defensive.

“But I think that for the time being the best thing we can do is break it into two separate parts. On the one hand are the things Viktor and I learned today, which I do realize you feel are none of our business, but that we are going to have to address sooner or later, and on the other there’s the blackmail aspect of this whole mess. The first one of those we can put off for a while, but the other one... well, whether you like it or not, that one’s time sensitive, so we do have to come up with some sort of strategy, and we have to do it now,” I say, being extremely careful not to treat him as a child here, to let him know that this is still his life, and that we are in no way taking over.

He nods at that, chewing on his lower lip, before all but curling in on himself. He looks like a frightened child, even younger than he is, and while there is something about his vulnerability that breaks my heart, I’m oddly comforted by the fact that he is _not_ pushing us away.

“I’m scared,” he finally admits.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, but I suspect your best bet may be to bite the bullet, and go public,” says Viktor, catching me completely off guard.

“Are you fucking insane?” asks Yurio before I can say anything.

“No, and I’m not saying it’s a good idea, I’m just saying that right about now it may well be your least awful choice. I may not have a clue when it comes to what you are going through, but...”

“But what?” he growls.

“But I’ve been dealing with the press since before you were born, and one thing I’ve learned is how to play the game, that sometimes you have to do the unexpected. Now, you could try to pay up, and pray that the issue will go away, but you know it won’t. You pay them now, and I can pretty much promise you that those creeps will be back next week, asking for more, so that’s not an option. On the other hand, if you were to go public on your terms now, which is the one thing they’re counting on you _not_ doing, you would effectively be taking their leverage away once and for all. You would also get a measure of control over how the story gets told, and let’s face it, given the fact that those images are out there, even if you could keep those bastards from leaking them without giving in to their demands, you would still have to worry about the possibility that the story would pop up in one way or another. You’re not even sixteen, Yurio. You have your entire career ahead of you, do you really want to spend it looking over your shoulder?”

“No, but... I don’t want everyone to know,” he whispers, and I can’t even begin to imagine what having this particular story splashed all over the front pages will do to him, what living in its aftermath will actually entail. In fact just thinking about it is enough to cause my own anxiety to skyrocket, and Yurio is just a child. The problem is that while I desperately wish there were something I could do to protect him, to make it all go away, the fact remains that I suspect Viktor is right, that no matter how we play it, keeping this quiet is no longer an option.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes, warnings and disclaimers, see chapter 1**  
>  Also, sorry about the long delay between updates. As I mentioned when I first started posting this story, I was AFK for a while there (and my net access is still spotty at best). I'll try to keep things flowing now, but I must warn you that for the time being RL seems to have its own agenda.

Chapter 8  
(Yurio’s POV)

‘Fuck, why can’t this whole mess just go away!’ that’s the thought that keeps running through my mind. I thought it was over. I really thought that with grandpa gone I’d be able to put it all behind, that I’d finally be allowed to forget, only now... what the fuck am I going to do? Oh, I get what Viktor’s saying, that sometimes you have to gain control of the story the hard way, and I do realize that he’s as much of a genius when it comes to playing the PR game as he’s on the ice, but fuck, to hear him talking about choreographing a press conference almost as if it were a goddamned free skate, like those bastards choreographed those fucking scenes, is making me sick. This is my life we’re talking about, goddamn it, and if I do this there will be no turning back.

That was a point that was brought home to me when I freaked at the thought of having Yakov take part in the whole charade, of telling him, and Katsudon told me to think it over because if I went public _everyone_ would know. Funny, I think the fans and the press had registered, and I had sort of wrapped my mind around that one --hell, it’s not like I’ve ever given a rat’s ass about what they think anyway-- but to bring Yakov in, to have everyone I know know about it... Beka, and the others... to lose their respect... maybe to have their curiosity get the best of them, and have them ogling those pictures...

Goddamn it, I hate this!

I’m still thinking about that when I feel Katsudon’s hand on my shoulder. Well, at least he’s not asking me if I’m okay... scratch that, if he were to ask me I’d be free to tell him to fuck off, or maybe I’d force myself to pretend that everything’s just peachy, and go with that. No, I’d definitely tell him to fuck off, but without him asking I can’t even do that. God, why can’t the moron follow the goddamned script?

“You talked to Yakov?” I manage to ask, not really wanting to hear the answer, clinging to the illusion that, as long as Yakov doesn’t know, this isn’t really real, that I can still turn back .

“Yes,” he says.

I want to ask what happened, what he said, but I don’t dare. Fuck, what’s wrong with me?

“Yuri, he’s known all along,” he adds.

“What?” I manage to ask.

“Your grandfather...”

“He told him?”

“Yes. When you first started training under him... you were ten, it was just two years after... and, well, you know how coaches sometimes get physical, how they sometimes find it easier to just manhandle you into position than to try to explain what you’re doing wrong? Your grandfather was worried that you might panic, and that he wouldn’t know what was going on or how to respond, so he filled him in.”

Okay, so I guess that makes sense. It also explains a shitload, like why Yakov was nowhere near as hands on with me in the early days as he was with everyone else, why he always gave me so much leeway. At the time I didn’t really think much about it. It wasn’t like there were dozens of kids running around the rink anyway. Yakov has never taken on more than a handful of skaters at a time --maybe a new one every three to five years-- and it was a while before a kid that was younger than me came along, so it wasn’t anything obvious, but now that I think about it I remember it was almost six months before he got frustrated enough that he actually grabbed my leg and showed me where it needed to be. With the other kid it took less than six hours for him to get to that point. It also means chances are I don’t have to worry about him treating me any different.

“And what did he say about...?” I trail off.

“About what’s happening?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s mad, of course, but he’s not mad at you, and he basically told me that we can count on him.”

“So the press conference is still a go?” I ask, a part of me wishing it weren’t, wishing Yakov would have found a way to put a stop to that one.

“It’s still your call, but yes, for the most part he agrees with Viktor that this is the best way to handle this. He also agreed to try to deflect some of the attention, but...”

“But even if he manages to pull it off, this is still going to suck? That’s not exactly breaking news, you know?”

“Yes, and I really wish there were something else we could do but...”

“But Viktor’s right,” I finish for him, knowing that I’ve spent hours trying to find another way out of this mess --that we’ve all spent hours trying to find another way out of this mess-- only to come up disgustingly empty handed.

“Hey,” he says.

“If you tell me it’s going to be fine I’ll punch your fucking daylights out,” I warn him.

“I was just going to say that you’re not alone,” he says with a sad smile on his lips, and I can’t help but to snort at that.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **For notes warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1.**  
>  Also, remember that authors feast on feedback, so don't be afraid to feed the beast!

Chapter 9  
(Yuuri’s POV)

The day has been... I don’t even have the words to describe it, though a part of me is incredibly relieved the moment Viktor closes the door. No, that won’t do much to keep the horror and the shock of the past few hours at bay, but for the time being it’s just the two of us here, and that should at least give us a chance to talk, gather our thoughts, and get on the same page because whether we like it or not, what we learned today is something that’s going to be with us for a very long time, and if there is one thing we can’t afford to do is to keep working at cross purposes from one another.

I am still thinking about that when I feel him lay down beside me, his body all but vibrating with tension, not that I’m doing much better. The problem is that neither one of us seems to know where to begin. Oh, now that I think about it I can see that there were a bunch of red flags I should have noticed, but... but at the same time the fact remains that while on hindsight those red flags seem glaring enough, at the time they were nowhere near that obvious. They were little things, like his reluctance to share a bath --somewhat unusual for an athlete who is used to common showers and locker rooms, but widespread enough among foreigners who are uncomfortable with the concept of bathing as a communal experience that all but defines an onsen to go unnoticed-- and his reaction when Viktor told him that he was to skate Agape rather than Eros. At the time I dismissed his disgust as teenage posturing, I assumed that given how hard he was vying for Viktor’s respect, there was a part of him that rebelled at the thought of having him see him as ‘innocent’, as child-like... now I’m beginning to suspect that there was a lot more to it than that.

I am pulled out of my musings by Viktor wrapping his arms around me.

“Hey,” I say running my fingers through his hair. Oh, we need to talk, we need to get on the same page, otherwise we will just find ourselves working at cross purposes from one another, and I know that when it comes to doing that this is bound to be our best choice. The problem is that there are so many things I have to say that I don’t even know where to begin.

He buries his head on the crook of my neck, apparently as at loss for words as I am.

We stay like that for a while, both of us pretending that we are trying to fall asleep, and both of us knowing that’s not going to happen. Eventually I feel Viktor’s arms tighten, and I decide to put an end to the charade.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“No, I... I can’t stop thinking about...” he trails off, not that I need him to finish that sentence.

“I know.”

“How could they do that to him? He was just a kid! In that picture... he looked so tiny, and to have them...”

“I don’t know, but...” apparently sharing his inability to finish a sentence.

“But what?” he asks.

“But right now we have to figure out a way to talk about it,” I finally manage to say.

“I can’t seem to get that image out of my mind,” he admits.

“And neither can I, but we have to figure out how we are going to handle this mess, and I don’t just mean the blackmail aspect of this thing. Yuri... would you believe me if I were to tell you that there’s a part of me that almost wants to send those creeps a thank you note?”

“What? Why?!” he asks, sounding utterly horrified.

“Because now it is out in the open, because in one way or another we needed to know. Oh, believe me, I would do anything to be able to go back in time and keep it from happening at all, but while that is most definitely not an option, what happened back then is an important part of Yurio’s past... and it is one I’m fairly certain would have come back to bite us sooner rather than later. He’s almost sixteen,” I remind him.

“So?” he asks, and I realize that I left a couple of critical steps out of my reasoning. The problem’s that there’s no way for me to explain it, not without saying some things I’m not sure Viktor is ready to hear.

“What he went through, it is something he’s going to have to live with for the rest of his life. It is also something that’s nowhere near as fixed as you may think.”

“Nowhere near as fixed?” he repeats, sounding more than a little puzzled, and I let out a sigh at that.

“When this whole thing went down he was eight. Sex was the furthest thing from his mind, and chances are that he was too young to fully grasp the implications of what was being done to him, that the part that hurt him the most was his mother’s betrayal,” I try to explain. “I don’t know what kind of support he had at the time, but my gut tells me that his mind dug the deepest hole it could, and did its best to bury the memories. Now he’s almost sixteen. It is only a matter of time before he becomes sexually active --in fact if it weren’t for the whole long distance thing, and because Otabek is very mindful of the age difference and doesn’t want to push him into something he might come to regret, chances are he would be already-- and when that happens the odds that some of the coping strategies he developed as a child will crumble are fairly high. If we hadn’t found out about it, if he had felt that this was a secret he had to protect, the whole situation might have spiraled completely out of control, but now that we not only know, but also that he knows we know, we can actually hope to be there for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Er, yes, the end is a little abrupt, that is due mostly to the fact that that was originally meant to be a shift in POV rather than a chapter break, but the resulting chapter felt a little too long for comfort so I decided to split things at the last moment. Sorry about that.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
(Viktor’s POV)

Okay, so I guess what Yuuri’s saying sounds reasonable enough, maybe too reasonable. We can’t change the past, there’s no getting around that one, and while that image is one I could most definitely have lived without, this is something that, as Yurio’s guardians, we did need to know. The problem is that there is also a part of me that can’t help but to feel that there’s something about that little speech that doesn’t quite fit... not that any of the developments of the past few hours do. Oh, I know Yuuri is smart, and he is also very aware both of his emotions and of the ones of those around him, but I am also used to him wearing his heart on his sleeve. Right now he seems to be determined to push those aside as he deals with the current crisis. That has him sounding so damned rational, almost detached, while I’m battling the urge to go to Yurio’s room to check on him, to tuck him in and make sure he’s safe. The problem is that I am fairly certain that almost-sixteen-year-old Yurio would have my head if I were to do something along those lines. That, and that the one I so desperately want to tuck in and keep safe is the little boy in that picture.

I remember the pain and anguish in his eyes, and I also remember what Yuuri told me about that picture _not_ being the product of an isolated incident, that his mother rented him out over and over again to pay for her habit, with each of those times being more violent than the one before, and I wonder how could she do that to him. How could she look into her son’s eyes and hand him over to those creeps time and time again? Did he beg her not to make him go back to that place? Did she ignore his pleas? What were the thoughts that were running through his eight-year-old mind as she dragged him over that threshold, as she left him to those men’s mercies time and time again?

God, he was _EIGHT_ and she was his _MOTHER!_ She was supposed to keep him safe, not... I have never wanted to kill anyone so badly, unfortunately she died before he started training under Yakov, so I can’t even do that, and now, because of who he is, he’s going to have to face the consequences of what she did to him in a way that is more public than anyone could have foreseen. Oh, I know that under the circumstances going public is by far the lesser evil, that there is no way he can hope to keep this quiet, not in the long run --that’s why I insisted on this course of action-- but it is still most definitely an evil, and I agree that the timing could hardly have been worse. He’s still reeling from his grandfather’s death --from the loss of the man who was both his only living relative, and the one who got him away from all that-- he is barely getting settled here with us, and now to have this whole sordid mess added on top of that one? It’s a nightmare.

Of course, given that in a way this whole thing was brought about by Nikolai’s death, that timing is not exactly a coincidence... and I guess Yuuri does have a point when he says that, setting aside the question of what happens next when it comes to the press, if this whole thing had remained hidden for much longer our ignorance could all too easily have come back to bite us, but seriously, we could have used a few months’ delay here. That, and a chance to tackle this away from the spotlight.

Yes, in an ideal world we would have been able to deal with this privately, at least for a while, we would have been able to wrap our minds around it, and worked out the kinks in our strategy before going public, but things are not ideal --in fact in an ideal world none of this would have happened-- and that means that we have no choice but to work with the hand we’ve been dealt... and that’s where I come in because while on the one hand there’s no denying that this is a mess, we do have a couple of trump cards that can help us keep the damage to a minimum. The secret is going to be in keeping Yurio’s pride from getting in our way.

Oh, I noticed how Yuuri went out of his way to reassure Yurio that this is still his life, that we will be in no way taking over, and I suspect that Yuuri himself would be more than a little miffed if I were to tell him there is more to my suggestion that he go public than it would seem at first glance, that I do indeed plan to make a deliberate run around how Yurio might want us to handle this, but my top priority right now is to come up with a way to mitigate the damage, to take as much wind out of the story’s sails as I can, and if I have to play a little dirty to get us there, so be it.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
(Yurio’s POV)

I don’t know what to do. Oh, I know what we’re going to do, but that’s nowhere near the same thing, and it does nothing to change the fact that I’m screwed. In fact I suspect screwed was a couple of turns back because this? This is taking the concept of being screwed to a brand new level. I know Viktor and Katsudon think that once the press conference is over with that will be it, that the blackmailers will lose their leverage, and those goddamned pictures will stop being an issue once and for all. They are convinced that while there are bound to be a couple of awkward questions we will have no choice but to address, once word gets out, and the story dies down, things will basically go back to being the way they’ve always been. I don’t think they realize that those images and videos are still out there, that they’re still for sale in the deep web... and that there are plenty of creeps who are going to go looking for them _because_ of their goddamned press conference, who are going to go looking for them because they are of me.

Yes, even though I’ve done my best not to dwell on that little detail, deep down I’ve always known that the damned things were out there. The thing’s that up until now at least they had the decency of being fucking anonymous. My name wasn’t on the goddamned credits, and the jerks who were getting off them were there just because they wanted to see a cute kid get the shit fucked out of him. It was twisted, it was sick, but hey, people are people, and people suck. The creeps who are going to be itching to get their hands on them now... they _aren’t_ going to be there to see some random kid, and stupid as it may seem, that’s really freaking me out... and then there’s the goddamned pity, we can’t fucking forget about that one.

I mean, this shit went down YEARS ago, but I can see it in both Viktor and Katsudon’s eyes, and even though they’re doing their best to keep their reactions in check, it’s getting on my last nerve. Yes, I know they mean well, and I’m glad Viktor managed to come up with a way to tackle this --even if his way sucks-- because the truth’s that when I first clicked on that link I had no fucking clue as to what was I supposed to do about any of this. Hell, at first I didn’t even fucking register what ‘this’ was. I just wasn’t expecting that image to pop out of nowhere, to learn that someone had been blackmailing my grandpa since god knows when, and then when Katsudon took the phone from my hand... that was fucking terrifying. It was also confusing as hell because, if anyone would have asked me, I wouldn’t have said that he’d had the sense to dim the screen and obfuscate his way out of that one. Instead he brought me home, cornered me into telling him what was going on, and then had the sense to focus on the blackmail aspect of this thing, rather than on that goddamned picture. He was the first one to do it, and he did it in a way that set the tone for Viktor’s reaction, the question is why, because while on the one hand I feel like I’ve dodged a bullet, on the other... well, on the other there’s no getting around the fact that, if anyone would’ve asked me to describe in one word how was Katsudon likely to react to that picture, ‘sensibly’ wouldn’t have been my first choice.

Okay, so sensibly wouldn’t have been my word of choice to describe Viktor’s reaction either, but the thing’s that while so far the two of them seem to be taking it better than I would have expected them to, there’s a part of me that can’t help but to feel that this is the calm before the storm, that while for the time being they seem to have decided that the blackmail aspect of this thing has to come first, the key word in that statement is first... and that once that first aspect has been dealt with they are going to shift their focus to the second one.

So what am I supposed to do about that one? I don’t know, and the fact that I’m fucking exhausted is not exactly helping matters here. It’s late, and I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open, but I don’t fucking want to go to sleep... or rather I don’t want to deal with the crap that’s likely to be waiting for me on the other side because I suspect that the chances that I’ll have a nightmare tonight are close to one hundred percent... and the last thing I need is to have Viktor and the goddamned Katsudon come barging in. Yes, on a rational level I know that’s one I’m going to have to deal with sooner or later because sooner or later I’m going to have to get some sleep, and seeing how I’m not only living with them, but how we also share what’s mostly the same schedule, trying to catch some z’s while they’re not around isn’t much of an option. That means that trying to put it off until they aren’t around isn’t likely to do me much good, but fuck rational.

Right now I just want to hit the goddamned pause button, even if it’s only for a little while, but I’m too tired to find it. I want to sleep, I want things to go back to the way they were, I want my grandpa, but I’m stuck, and there’s nothing I can do about any of it, so I curl into a ball and allow the night to claim me while I do my best not to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, pretty please, can you spare a comment? Hey, what can I say, I'm feeling lonely!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12  
(Yuuri/Yurio’s POV)

Breakfast is... tense, that’s the best way to describe it. It’s like all three of us have spent the night thinking about yesterday’s events, but none of us is sure of where the others stand, and we are all afraid of saying the wrong thing... or maybe that’s just me. I’m still thinking about that, trying to figure out a way to break the ice when Yuri’s phone buzzes, letting us know that he’s got a message. He looks at it, and closes his eyes, swearing under his breath.

“What is it?” I finally ask.

“They sent me an address for a wallet. They expect me to send some bitcoins. I have forty-eight hours,” he replies.

“Okay, that doesn’t give us much time, but it is a timeframe, and we knew we were going to have to move fast. Do you have any idea of what you want to say?” asks Viktor.

“Say?”

“At the press conference. Have you given any thought to what kind of statement you are going to make, or do you want me to help you craft one?”

I see Yurio hesitate at that, torn between his pride and stubborn independence, and his awareness of the fact that, when it comes to playing the press game, putting himself in Viktor’s hands is likely to be his best bet.

“Would you help me?” he finally asks, swallowing his pride. Viktor nods, and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding at that.

Yes, on a rational level I know Yuri has been groomed to be a public figure from an early age, and I also know he knows a long string of profanities is not going to cut it here, but I can’t help but to fear that that would be his instinctive response... not that I’d blame him.

I clear the table and set out to do the dishes while the two of them move to the living room and set to work, shifting their conversation to Russian, as they do when I’m not around. Oh, I know they are not trying to exclude me, that it is their native tongue, and one I am getting better at. I can identify quite a few words now, and maybe even follow a simple conversation, but I still struggle when confronted with anything more complicated than that, and right now I am feeling oddly cut off.

I shake my head at that thought, knowing that this is not about me, that if I were to approach them and tried to join them they would both automatically switch back to English... in fact I do realize that the final statement will probably be in that language, but right now that’s an added layer of complexity they don’t need, so I stay away, watching them, and wondering what’s going to happen next.

***

‘Well, at least I have the old geezer,’ that’s the thought that keeps running through my mind as I try to figure out what to say ‘cause the truth’s that I don’t know how am I supposed to handle this shit. Viktor instead seems to have some pretty clear ideas, so I’m trying to work with that. It’s just that the more I think about it, the less I like it, especially since he mentioned something about giving Beka and the others some sort of heads up, just in case the press tries to ambush them, not that there would be much point in doing that. Still, I wouldn’t put it past those vultures, and in a way I guess it kind of makes sense. It’s just that I could have lived without the added reminder of the fact that _everyone_ will know. It’s kind of like what I felt when they first suggested telling Yakov, only worse.

The good news is that he also has the sense not to expect me to tackle that one. Instead he suggests that we get Yakov to talk to our rink mates, and ask Katsudon to contact Phichit to let him know that a shitstorm’s about to hit, and get him to spread the word so that everyone sticks to ‘no comment’ should anyone ask them about the scandal du jour. Well, I guess it can’t hurt, and I almost suggest that someone contact Isabella to make sure she sits on JJ to get him to keep his big mouth shut, but I can’t really get the words out of my mouth, and that’s freaking me out. This is not something I like to talk about. In fact it is something I wish would simply go away, but I know that’s not going to happen --not now, not ever-- and what we’re doing here is supposed to be to prepare a statement for a goddamned press conference, so I better get over that reluctance fast.

I mean, what would happen if I were to choke in front of the press? I shudder at that thought. The last thing I want to do is to have them see me as broken. I don’t want their goddamned pity, and so far Viktor seems to be going for a rather defiant tone, which suits me just fine, but I still have to nail this. I have to give the performance of my life.

I also have to contact Beka. Yes, Viktor’s idea of relying on Yakov and Phichit to get the word out works well enough when it comes to everyone else, but Beka deserves better, and I do realize that, if our positions were reversed I would be beyond pissed if I were to read about something like this on the fucking press. The problem’s that our positions are not reversed, that a prepared statement is not going to do me one lick of good here, and that I’m suddenly realizing that I still don’t know how to explain, not really. Both Viktor and Katsudon had that picture as their starting point, so there really was no need for me to say much of anything, but there’s no way in hell I’m forwarding that shit to anyone else, so how the fuck am I supposed to pull this one off?


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13  
(Yurio’s POV)

‘Short and to the point. Try to keep it under two hundred words, so that they have no excuse not to quote your statement in its entirety, and make no apologies, as you did nothing wrong,’ that was the gist of Viktor’s advice, and somehow I managed to pull it off. Okay, so I did have to go over the blasted thing a dozen times or so, and even after that the old geezer rewrote it basically from the ground up. The problem’s that while on the one hand I know that word limit makes sense, it feels like a bit much... not that I wanted to go into detail. Two hundred words translate into an average length paragraph, or an eight part tweetstorm. That’s nothing, so here I am, being mocked by the half empty --make that three-quarters empty-- page in front of me as I take my place in front of the mic, with Viktor and Yakov flanking me on either side.

That’s oddly comforting, especially considering how I chickened out in my conversation with Beka, and wound up giving him something that was closer to an apology for the fact that I couldn’t quite bring myself to explain than an actual explanation. Oh, I know that the circumstances were different, that when talking to him a prepared statement was not going to cut it, meaning that I had to improvise, but still the fact that I couldn’t even get the goddamned words out is not exactly reassuring. It’s just that he sort of caught me off guard, that I was still trying to figure out what to say when he called me because Phichit decided to begin spreading the news from the top down, with those who had made it to the Grand Prix Final, and Katsudon _didn’t_ tell him to leave Beka to me, not that that’s much of an excuse.

Still, while the fact that I messed that one up is really freaking me out, at the end of the day I know Beka is going to understand. That is more than can be said of the vultures that are currently watching me, and that means that this is it, that this is the one I absolutely have to nail.

“Thank you so much for being here on such short notice, I have a statement to make,” I begin, doing my best to keep my voice steady. “Some seven years ago, when I was eight, I found myself at the mercy of a child pornography ring. The how and why don’t matter. As you can probably guess, this is a particularly painful chapter of my life, and one I would much rather have kept to myself. Unfortunately over the past few days someone has been threatening to release this information. Not wanting to be blackmailed, I have decided to come forward in an attempt to defuse this situation, so yes, should they leak to the public or the press, I can confirm that the pictures and video are real. They are extremely graphic, they are of me, and no, I was in no way a willing participant in any of it. I was eight. I had no control over the things that were done to my body back then, just as I have no control over what happens to that material now. This is also something I refuse to discuss any further, and I would appreciate it if both you and the public were to respect that, and refrain from bringing it up in the future.”

Having managed to get the words out I tune out the cacophony of questions that are flung my way, and hand the mic to Yakov, leaving him to deal with the clean up. The problem is that I’m not entirely sure of what’s going to happen next. Oh, I know Yakov has prepared some sort of follow up statement, but as usual he hasn’t seen it fit to share it with me. That is particularly frustrating. Unfortunately I also know that this is not the time for me to be demanding an explanation, and at the end of the day I do trust him. I just wish he would trust me. This is my fucking life we are talking about.

“I would like to take this opportunity to remind the members of the press that Mr. Plisetsky is still a minor, and while we realize that as a public figure he is under closer scrutiny than an average child would be, we do expect you to adhere to the same standards of journalistic integrity that would apply in other cases,” he says. “The fact that he has achieved so much at such an early age does not mean that he must now forfeit the protections that are afforded to him by law, or that he has to submit to any sort of questioning that would be deemed inappropriate under different circumstances. Now, don’t get me wrong, I do realize that this is a news story, and you are entitled to treat it as such, but please don’t lose sight of the fact that what we are talking about is a heinous crime that was perpetrated against a young child; that buying, selling, publishing, distributing, owning and even viewing that material is illegal; and that going forward we will be taking all the legal steps necessary to protect Mr. Plisetsky’s privacy. Again, we are not asking for special treatment here, nor are we trying to dictate what you can and cannot write. All we ask is that you conduct yourselves in a professional manner, and refrain from adding fuel to the fire.”


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14  
(Viktor’s POV)

As we step away from the press corps I keep my eyes on Yuri, knowing that there’s going to be hell to pay for that one. Oh, I’m still convinced that the plan I worked out with Yakov was the way to go, but I also know that if there’s one thing that’s pretty much guarantee to make Yurio snap is treating him as a child, and boy did we just do that. Come to think of it, I suspect Yuuri will have something to say about that one too. The difference is that Yuuri might actually be willing to listen to reason.

“What the fuck was that all about, old man?” he yells as soon as he’s sure we’re out of earshot.

“Your best bet?” I say, not willing to apologize.

“I’m not a goddamned child! I don’t need to be babied, not by you, not by anyone else!”

“Do you really think that’s what that was all about?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that it was not about treating you like a child, it was about making use of the best tool we have at our disposal,” I reply.

“By reminding them of the fact that I’m just a kid?” he insists, apparently not ready to let that one go.

“By taking advantage of the fact that you do enjoy a number of legal protections that would be unavailable to you if you were older, and by shaming them into following their own self-proclaimed standards. You may not like the fact that doing that made it necessary for us to remind them of the fact that you are legally a minor, but it does mean that for the next couple of years their hands are effectively tied. They may be dying to get the story, but they know they can’t, so they’ll settle for the next best thing: making sure nobody else beats them to it. That means that they are going to spend the next two years effectively policing each other, and that in turn should give you plenty of time to figure out how you want to deal with this mess in the long run... if it ever becomes necessary.”

“ _If_ it ever becomes fucking necessary?” he growls.

“Well, the truth is that I don’t think it will. The way I see it two years from now this will be a well established part of your bio. It will be old news, and given the subject matter those journalists who try to bring it up will be opening themselves to a whole lot of criticism. Today getting you to lose your cool, and say something you shouldn’t, would have been deemed a real coup, but by the time you turn eighteen that will no longer be the case,” I explain.

“But why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I know you, because I know you somehow think that the fact that at times we are inclined to take your age into account means that we don’t respect you, and that in turn meant that I knew that getting you to agree to go along was going to be a struggle, one that was going to take time, and we had to move fast.”

“And what about Katsudon’s promise that you _wouldn’t_ try to take over?”

“That was his promise, not mine, and he didn’t know,” I admit.

“What?”

“I didn’t tell him. You know he doesn’t speak much Russian, so I worked the whole thing out with Yakov, and just told him that, as your coach and your guardian, Yakov and I would be with you during that press conference, and that Yakov would be making a follow up statement. I left out most of the details.”

“And is that why when you went over my statement with me you insisted that I emphasize the fact that I was eight?”

“That was relevant information.”

“What, to make me look like a fucking victim?” he growls, not willing to let it go.

“You may not like the word, but you were the victim of a crime, that’s just the way language works, or do you want me to call you a survivor?” I challenge, knowing better than to coddle him. “Where you are wrong is when you assume that acknowledging the fact that you were the victim of a crime means you are weak, that it somehow makes you pitiful. You are neither of those things, and there’s no reason for you to hide behind some godawful euphemism.”

“Tell that to those goddamned vultures!”

“Those vultures have as much information as they’re going to get unless they go digging, and they have been put on notice that if they were to go digging they would find themselves in a world of trouble. Some of them may not particularly care, but believe me when I tell you that the organizations they work for will. No company that depends on the good will of its advertisers to survive will touch any of those stories with a ten-foot pole because to do that would make them come across as complicit in the harassment of a child, and that is not something advertisers are going to be willing to risk. It’s not too unlike what happens with our sponsors, where we are bound by a series of moral clauses. Now, I’ll give you that there may be some tabloids that will try to push those boundaries, but those tabloids are always out there, and even those are bound to have legal departments of their own. And those sponsors I mentioned? They are the real reason I insisted on the need to emphasize your age: because I wanted to leave no doubt in their tiny little minds as to the fact that you were in no way a willing participant in what happened, and that dropping you over this ‘scandal’ would be a really bad PR move,” I explain, still trying to get him to look at the facts, rather than at that perceived slight.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15  
(Yurio’s POV)

Okay, so I admit that Viktor may actually have a point when it comes to the whole sponsor thing, and I’ll even go so far as to admit that I hadn’t even thought of that one. That was a stupid mistake, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I have to say that I’m kind of glad that he made a preemptive strike in that regard because that one could have turned out to be a fucking disaster, but still there’s something weird about seeing Viktor at his devious best. I’m so used to him playing the airhead that I sometimes forget that’s just an act. The problem’s that with that goddamned press conference behind me I have no choice but to face the fact that there’s no turning back, that I’m now stuck living in the after.

Word’s already out there, there’s no getting the pee out of the fucking pool, and while with a little luck Viktor’s strategy will work and the blackmail aspect of this thing will be put to rest once and for all, the clean up is not something I’m looking forward to.

Almost without thinking I look at my phone. There are dozens of messages clamoring for attention. I hesitate for a moment and then I put it away, not quite ready to face the world yet. Yes, it’s stupid, but there’s a part of me that feels that, as long as I don’t acknowledge those messages, none of this will be real. When did I turn into such a fucking coward?

I’m still thinking about that when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, and see Katsudon standing there.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I... I guess,” I say, knowing it’s not the whole truth, and that he knows it’s not the whole truth, but that at the end of the day I’m doing as well as could be expected, and that there’s no point in complaining.

“You did good. I know it wasn’t easy.”

“Thanks,” I reply, hating the sort of awkwardness that’s permeating this conversation. No, it’s nothing obvious, in fact I might even go so far as to admit that it may all be in my head, but the thing’s that up until now our focus had been mostly on getting past the press conference. With that conference on the rearview mirror we are stuck with the details of the events that gave rise to that press conference in the first place, and while I had given both Viktor and Katsudon the basic outline of what happened back when I was eight, I know there are plenty of details I left out, and I’m not sure what to do about that one, especially because I know that sooner or later they’re going to be demanding some answers.

We stay silent until we get to the apartment. A part of me wants me to barricade myself in my room, and put it off for as long as I can, the other just wants to rip the goddamned band aid out, and tackle this head first.

I hesitate for a moment, but then the band aid ripping side wins. To hell with it, one way or another we are going to have to do this, so let’s get it over with.

“Ask away,” I finally say.

“What do you mean?” asks Yuuri, apparently taken aback.

“Well, I figure that sooner or later you are going to be asking questions, so let’s get this shit out of the way,” I say, cursing when I hear my voice crack a bit.

“We don’t have to do this now,” he says.

“I know, kind of, but...” I trail off.

“But what?” he prods.

“But I don’t want to have it hanging over my head,” I admit.

“That’s not how it works, and if there’s ever a question you don’t want to answer, all you have to do is say so.”

“What, so that you can file it away to ask over and over again?”

“You have a right to say no,” he insists.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I exclaim, not quite believing the ridiculousness of this whole situation.

“Why are you pushing so hard for this?” he prods, sounding honestly baffled.

“Because I want this shit to be over with!”

“So why don’t you tell us what you think we ought to know?” asks Viktor, catching me completely off guard.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fair warning, this chapter is a little more descriptive than most. No, I don't think it is detailed enough to be considered explicit, but it can reasonably be considered extremely disturbing, so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you of the trigger warnings that are attached to this story as a whole, namely rape/non-con, and past sexual abuse of a minor.

Chapter 16  
(Yuuri’s POV)

‘Do these two really think we can get past this in one day?’ I wonder, trying to figure out a way to defuse the situation, even though I know it’s a little late for that, that I should have put a stop to it the moment Yuri asked us to ask away... it’s just that I never expected Viktor to take him up on that offer. We need a strategy, and I thought we had one, until the two hard headed Russians took it upon themselves to egg each other on, and basically threw it out the window.

Honestly, what is it going to take to get Viktor to understand that this situation needs a scalpel, not a sledgehammer? I mean, I did catch his explanation for that stunt he pulled with Yakov, and I will even go so far as to admit that from a PR perspective it probably did make a twisted kind of sense. It was a shrewd move to protect Yurio’s budding career, and even if it came at the expense of his pride, the time they bought him by emphasizing his age, and all but threatening legal action against those who refuse to back down, was probably worth it, but right now what we need to do is decompress, not add more fuel to the fire.

The problem is that even though for the time being Yuri seems to be at a loss for what to say, having counted on us either backing down, or asking questions, if I were to try to reassure him that he doesn’t have to say anything would only serve to make matters worse, as the last thing he needs is for Viktor and I to keep pulling in opposite directions. Unfortunately, vague as Viktor’s question was, it does reflect the fact that there’s an awful lot we don’t know, and that at the end of the day what I’m doing here is akin to walking into a minefield.

“That picture, the one we saw, was... was that as bad as it got?” I finally ask, dreading the answer, but knowing that I need a starting point, and that in the grand scheme of things that is a pretty straight-forward question.

“Yes, no... it’s... it’s not so simple. I mean, did they get more violent after that? Hell, yes, but... but I guess after that I stopped giving a shit, you know?”

“You told me that when you stopped fighting they had to hurt you twice as much to get the same reaction, and they did, is that what you meant?”

“Yeah, but it was like I wasn’t really there, like it was happening to someone else. It still hurt, but it was also kind of muffled,” he says with a shrug that has to be the least convincing one I have ever seen.

“So how many times did your mother take you there?” I ask, trying to stick to the facts. No, I don’t think the specific details of what happened all those years ago are going to be particularly relevant, but I admit I could probably use some sort of framework here.

“I think it was five or six.”

“And that picture?”

“About half way through, third or fourth,” he replies, still feigning nonchalance, and I realize that there is an odd connection between those uncertainties, but I need more information.

“So there was a progression?”

“Yeah, like I said, before the first time I didn’t even know what was going on, so it wasn’t until things got bad that I really started freaking out ‘cause fucking hurts, and I think they got a big kick out of that one. The second time... I was crying and trying to get away as soon as I realized where we were headed, I didn’t want to be there, but my mom kept dragging me by the arm, I kind of remember that. I’m not sure how much of this is just my imagination, but it was sort of like they were toying with me. I remember how they kept me locked up alone in this room for what felt like ages, and I was already panicking by the time they really got started. The third time... things started getting rougher, I think it was about that time that they also started shooting a couple of scenes per session, not just one. By the end of the second to last time I was exhausted. I was also really sore, and I knew there was no point in trying to fight them off, so I just laid there, and let them do whatever they wanted. They were really pissed about that, and then...” he trails off.

“Then what?” I prod because while a part of me is tempted to leave it at that, to allow him to pull back, we are so close to the end that I figure we might just as well get it over with.

“Then it changed.”

“Changed?”

“The last time, it... it was different. I was no longer fighting back, they knew they could no longer bank on my reactions being the ones they wanted, and they were ready. They started telling me what to do, demanding that I take a more active role... punishing me if I didn’t. They... they were pros, they were good at what they did. They... they knew how to make it hurt like a bitch without leaving any obvious marks, not of the kind that would be readily apparent. They said I had to learn, that they were going to teach me how to be a good little whore... I, I don’t know what would’ve happened if my grandpa hadn’t...” he trails off again, and this time around I decide not to push.

“If your grandpa hadn’t taken you to that rink on that day?”

He nods at that.

“And after that, what did Nikolai do?” I ask, trying to shift to a safer topic.

“He... he had me move in with him, and things got really weird. I think there was a social worker that used to come to our house there for a while, and he also tried to take me to some counselor, or some shit like that. It’s all kind of fuzzy, but I do remember that the woman was annoying as fuck. He also took me to the rink a couple of times a week, that was the best, and there was... I wouldn’t go so far as to call her a figure skating coach, not now, but maybe a teacher? I mean, now that I think about it I can’t tell she wasn’t all that good, but she loved the ice, and I loved watching her move, her control over her body, how she could get it to do what she wanted it to, and then grandpa signed me up for lessons. He couldn’t afford private ones, obviously, but...” he trails off again, and I try to add what he just told me to my mental picture of him, a mental picture that is all but unrecognizable from the one that first formed in my mind when he kicked me into that stall a little over a year ago.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17  
(Yuuri’s POV)

I’m trying to make sense out of Yurio’s words, the problem is that the picture those words paint... well, let’s just say that that picture is enough to send a shiver down my spine. More than once now I’ve been caught off guard by the terms he uses to refer to the men who hurt him, the first time around he called them smart, just now he referred to them as pros, and while a part of me can’t help but to agree with that assessment there is something about the way he is phrasing things that doesn’t quite fit.

Yes, the story itself is disgustingly coherent. As Yuri said, they knew what they were doing, only I suspect that went well beyond how to keep from leaving any physical evidence. In fact going by what he’s told us I would bet that they also knew enough to predict what their prey’s responses were likely to be, and how to make the most out of those instinctive reactions. They also knew there were moments they would have only one chance to capture, and knew how to take full advantage of those. From that perspective the progression Yuri described makes perfect sense, another unwelcome reminder of the fact that what he encountered was not an isolated pervert trying to satisfy his own twisted cravings, but rather a group that was organized enough to have something akin to a dedicated studio, a group that had the numbers and the resources to stage all kinds of scenarios, one that was following a well defined script with an almost surgical precision. It was a group that was doing it not for pleasure but for profit... one that had done it many times before, and probably did it just as many times after that.

What sets Yurio apart is not so much the horror of what he went through as the fact that he actually made it, that he not only managed to survive, but also to thrive. He was a drug addict’s son, and as such he was probably dismissed by most as bound to become a statistic from the day he was born.

In other words, we are back to another one of those oddly accurate words that have caught me off guard, only that one was a word Yuri used to refer to himself rather than to the men who hurt him, and that word is lucky. The problem is that accurate as those words --smart, pros, lucky-- have been, I can’t help but to feel that there’s a glaring disconnect because at the end of the day the way in which he is describing what he went through is miles apart from what I would expect an eight-year-old’s memories to sound like. A teenager? Maybe, but even though that’s what he is, I suspect there is more to it than that.

Granted, he did mention that he was dragged to see a counselor at some point, but I suspect that that one too dates back to when he was little, not to mention that by the sound of it he never really clicked with that woman, and the effort was discontinued shortly thereafter. That brings me back to my original question: where does his level of self-awareness actually come from?

I try to go over what I know of Yurio in my mind. True, that mental image is in the process of being seriously revised in light of the things I have learned in the past few days, but it’s still the only thing I have to go by, so I try to put myself in his place, and then it hits me.

As I told Viktor, there is a limit to how far the coping mechanisms he developed as a child are going to get him, and I knew from the moment I caught a glimpse of that photo that that limit was something we were going to have to deal with sooner rather than later. What I never really stopped to consider was the possibility that those mechanisms might have been leaking for a while, but if they were, where would Yuri have turned to? His grandfather? No. He loved him, and by all accounts their relationship was very good, but ever since I met him his grandfather’s failing health had been a cloud hanging over his head. He knew the old man didn’t have much longer, and I don’t think he would have wanted to burden him with the ghosts of his past, on the other hand we are talking about what was basically his darkest secret, so there was no one for him to turn to. That leaves the internet, and my heart breaks a little as I can almost see Yuri hiding to do some research in an attempt to make sense of the thoughts that were running through his mind --thoughts he couldn’t control, or even fully understand-- dreading the possibility of being found out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry about the delay in posting this chapter, but the blasted thing turned into something of a nightmare. First it was supposed to be Yurio's POV, but Yuuri refused to surrender the spotlight, then I realized that I had woven too many threads into it and the end result was too dense and unwieldy, so I decided to set some of those threads aside to deal with in the future. Anyway, I'm still not too happy about this one, but hopefully it will come across as readable.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18  
(Viktor’s POV)

‘Okay, skating, that’s safer, isn’t it?” or at least that’s what I try to tell myself, relieved by the fact that we are back to something that is at least vaguely familiar territory because the truth is that it took me less than a second to realize that challenging Yurio to tell us what he thought we ought to know was a dumb move. I mean what is it going to take to get through my thick skull the fact that Yurio never backs down from a challenge, and that’s without even taking into account the fact that Yuuri took it upon himself to narrow things down for him. That’s not something I had been counting on. Of course, considering the stunt Yakov and I played at the press conference I guess I don’t have much room to complain. Well, on a more positive note I guess now I know why was he so adamant about us working together, I just wish I could get rid of the images that seem to be popping into my mind because some of the things Yurio described... well, let’s just say that there’s truth both to the old saying that ignorance is bliss, and to the one about a little knowledge being a dangerous thing.

Only a couple of days ago I was completely oblivious to the darker side of Yurio’s past, now I can’t stop thinking about it. The image I saw... it was just one image, but even though a part of me knew said image couldn’t exist in isolation --not seeing how the blasted thing was a snapshot-- I somehow managed to convince myself that that was the extent of it. Now Yurio’s own words have popped that particular bubble, only those sketchy details I was so grateful for before seem to have morphed into something different. Now I know just how many times his mother rented him out, how many ‘scenes’ he was forced to participate in, and I also have a general idea as to what happened in each of those instances. No, I still don’t have the details --thank god-- but what I have is just enough information for my mind to try to fill in the blanks, and truth be told that’s nowhere near where I want to be.

It is also where I suspect I’m going to find myself stuck, as there is no turning back. There is no way I can hope to unlearn what I have learned up until now, and I also know better than to push Yuri for any additional information. Yes, I know the answer to my questions is out there, at the end of the day that is a good chunk of what this whole mess boils down to, but to find those answers I would have to hunt down those images, those videos, I would have to actually watch them, and even I know that would be a betrayal of trust that is too big to contemplate.

Okay, so there is also the fact that I just don’t have the stomach, that the one image I saw was almost more than I could take... and for Yurio it’s a lot more than a random image. Yes, on a theoretical level I know those crimes happen all the time, but even though I have spent most of my life in the public eye, and have been featured in my fair share of news stories, this is not something I ever expected to pop out of the page and into my own life... not like this.

Society and sports pages? Sure, those are familiar territory, but this? This is something completely different... and hence back to skating, at least until I can wrap my mind around this one.

After all, even if there are some significant differences, falling in love with the ice is something I can relate to.

“So that was your first instructor?” I ask.

“Yeah, she may not have been the most polished of skaters, but she was unlike any teacher I had ever met... she... she really seemed to care, you know?”

“Care?” asks Yuuri.

“Yeah, I mean, she wasn’t like the teachers back at my school. She wasn’t doing it for the money, she was there because she wanted to be, and I don’t think that was even her full time job, but she kind of took me under her wing.”

“Did she know about...?” Yuuri trails off.

“No, or at least I don’t think she did. I mean, if you had asked me a week ago I would have said that neither did Yakov, so what do I know, but back then my mom was still alive, and I think she knew she had recently lost custody, so even if she was a little sketchy on the details, I guess it wouldn’t have been too hard for her to figure out that I had gone through some pretty tough shit.”

‘Okay, that makes sense,’ I tell myself, thinking back to the day Yakov announced that there would be a ten-year-old joining us at the rink, how he gave us a heads up about the fact that his mother had recently passed away, and asked us to be gentle with him. That was not part of the usual spiel, but under the circumstances it seemed perfectly natural. Would it have been different of his mother had been alive? I don’t know. On the one hand I suspect that his mother’s recent passing made it that much easier for Yakov to ask us to give him the room he needed without revealing the real reason behind that request, not to mention that it also served to mask any odd behavior; on the other I know being forced to move in with a grandparent is a pretty common occurrence for a promising young athlete who still requires the constant presence of a guardian, but whose parents can’t afford to relocate, so his living with his grandfather wouldn’t have raised any red flags. Let’s face it: grandparents are more likely to be retired, whereas parents often have to grapple with things such as jobs and other children, and while becoming a professional athlete can be a lucrative proposition, the odds are stacked heavily against us, not to mention that it is an investment in the future most parents can’t afford to make. Yes, the rewards can be very enticing, but that does nothing to change the fact that precisely because acceptance into the most elite, state-sponsored programs does not take the families’ wealth into account, the parents who can afford to tag along are few and far between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry about the delay in posting this chapter between a bit of writer's block, and the fact that RL has been driving me crazy I fell way behind. I'll try to do better but right now I can make no promises. Take care, and thanks for reading!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19  
(Yurio’s POV)

‘I am so ready for this day to be fucking over’, I think to myself, even as I look out the window, glaring at the sun, which hasn’t even had the decency to fucking set.

“And how did you wind up with Yakov?” asks Katsudon, catching me somewhat off guard.

“Luck, basically,” I admit.

“What happened?” he asks.

“There was this kid at our rink. He was good enough to have entered a few local events, hell, he had even managed to come out on top in a couple of them. That was odd because... well, let’s face it, because our rink was a fucking mess. It was a soviet relic that was falling apart, the neighborhood was a rough one, and while we loved skating, skating is expensive, and none of us had the means to train like the other kids who were taking part in those competitions. Anyway, Yakov caught wind of Dimitri’s existence somehow, and he realized that to have succeeded to the extent that he had the kid had to have some talent, but he also knew that unless someone did something --and did it soon-- that talent was going to be squandered because he had gone about as far as he could without some serious coaching, so he came to the rink to check him out. Dimitri didn’t make the cut, but I did,” I explain, relieved by the fact that we are back to something that feels like a more familiar territory.

“And how long after your mother’s passing was this?”

“Something like ten weeks,” I say, not liking where this is going, but not quite daring to ask Katsudon to back off. The thing is that ever since I moved to St. Petersburg my mom’s death has been a sort of third rail, at least as far as my rinkmates were concerned.

“Did she OD?”

“I... I think.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was ten. I know she died, but I didn’t ask for the fucking details, and...” I trail off.

“Okay, so can you tell me what happened?”

“After they realized what she’d been doing they took me away. I mean, I know why they did it, and I also know she was ‘lucky’ in that no one cared enough about what she had done to throw her in jail --that the government figured it was better to leave her to rot in the streets than to stick the taxpayers with the bill for housing, clothing and feeding her for the foreseeable future-- but...”

“But what?”

“But she was my mom, goddamn it!” I snap, knowing that’s the part they just don’t get: that for all that she screwed up and everything, she was still my mom.

“You still saw her after that?”

“Yeah, grandpa... he never really left me alone with her, he never even allowed her to cross the threshold, but he couldn’t bring himself to cut her out of his life either, so he would arrange to meet at a diner or something. She kept begging him to give me back to her, but she was also getting more and more desperate. I remember once I was left alone with her for a couple of minutes while grandpa went to the bathroom. She tried to talk me into leaving with her. I wanted to, but... I didn’t... maybe if I had...” I say before I can really stop myself, and all of a sudden I find myself preying that Katsudon will let it go, but of course I am nowhere near that lucky.

“If you had, what?” he asks, zeroing in precisely on what I wanted him to overlook, and I realize that trailing off when I did was a really dumb mistake. The problem? That that whole thing about not lying if you are not sure you are going to be able to keep your lies straight still applies, that while talking about what those creeps did was a minefield that was apparent enough to ensure that Katsudon would watch his step, this one may be even trickier, and that trying to get out of this one without a fucking strategy is not going to happen, so I am thoroughly screwed.

“Nothing,” I say, and while a part of me is really hoping he won’t push, the other one knows that that could easily turn out to be even worse. It all goes back to that band-aid pulling that got me into this mess in the first place. Yes, if I had kept my big mouth shut I might have avoided this, but that if is in the past, and there’s no getting back to that alternative timeline.

“Yuri, what do you think would have happened if you had gone with her?”

“I don’t fucking know, I’ll never know, okay?”

“But you have an idea.”

“Maybe she wouldn’t have died!”

“You can’t possibly think that!” exclaims Viktor.

“It’s the truth,” I insist.

“Why?” asks Katsudon.

“Because...” I trail off.

“Yuri, please,” says Viktor.

“Because if I had gone with her maybe she’d have been able to afford the good drugs, she wouldn’t have turned to Krokodil and shit like that!” I all but yell at them.

Viktor pales at that, while Katsudon asks, “Krokodil?”

“Later,” says Viktor, and I’m really glad he at least gets that one ‘cause trying to get the image of the last time I saw my mom out of my mind... well, that’s going to be a challenge, and I really don’t feel like explaining.

The silence that follows is incredibly awkward, and then I realize that it is over, at least for now. Do I really think they are going to let this go? Not by a long shot. I know there are going to be more questions, and that I am still going to have to figure out how to deal with the fallout from this shit, but for now it’s enough.

“So,” says Viktor, as the silence gets to be a little too much for him, and while Katsudon looks like he wants to say something, he doesn’t.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20  
(Yuuri’s POV)

So I google krokodil, and regret it almost immediately. Still, it had to be done, and while the images were gruesome, they were also something I had to see in order to understand where is Yuri coming from. It’s just that Viktor and I are so far out of our depth with this one, but at the same time we both realize we can’t afford to screw up... and yet we are still trying to figure out just what it is that ‘this one’ entails. There is the sexual abuse aspect of things, plus the blackmail, plus his mother’s death, and to that it now seems we should add a generous side order of guilt. Oh, and then on top of that we have Nikolai’s death, the fact that the story has gone public, and just the pressure that is par for the course when it comes to being an international sports figure at the age of fifteen. It is too much, and I do realize that one false move could cause the whole pile to come tumbling down on us. Just thinking about that is enough to cause my anxiety to skyrocket, but then again this is not about me, so I push that thought aside... or try to.

I go over our chat with Yuri in my mind once more, still trying to get a grip on the shape of this monster we are suddenly dealing with. A part of me wants to suggest some sort of counseling, but knowing Yurio as well as I do I already know how that one’s going to be received, especially because there is a very real possibility that his bad experience back when he was little has burned that bridge already. I can make an offer, but the chances that he’s going to take me up on that one are slim to none, and pushing would do more harm than good.

Well, the good news is that for the time being we are taking a step back. No, I don’t think any of us thinks this is over, but with a little luck today’s talk will be enough to get us through the early stages. That should give Viktor and I a chance to gather our thoughts, come to terms with the recent revelations, and at least try to figure out where we stand. On a more negative note, it will also give Yuri time to shore up his defenses, but let’s just lump that together with the rest of the massive cloud looming above the silver lining.

Still, I guess at the end of the day the thing I have to keep in mind is that, for better or for worse, this mess is not going anywhere. Yes, on the one hand that means we are going to have to learn to live with it, but on the other it means we can afford to take our time. Besides, while this is news for Viktor and I, Yuri has been living with most of this shit for a very long time. He knows what he went through, so there is no shock of revelation there, and while the recent developments are unlikely to have helped matters, chances are that right now he is in better shape than we are.

So, of all of the day’s revelations, which is the one I find most troubling? I think it over for a moment, and then I realize that the answer is simple: the guilt he seems to feel over his mother’s death. Yes, the details of what he went through are sickening enough, but in spite of that they remain just that: details. They may have been a little more twisted than I would have expected them to be, but at the end of the day the main aspect of the story doesn’t really change, and the same goes for the exact manner of his mother’s passing. Granted, I’m so mad at his mother that the only thing I regret about the fact that she is gone is that I can’t kill her myself, but children have a tendency to blame themselves for the weirdest things, and if his mother told him that by leaving with her he could save her, he refused to do so, and she died shortly thereafter --and if he watched her literally disintegrate in front of his eyes-- well, let’s just say that that’s an image that would be hard to dislodge from a child’s mind... and of course that’s not even touching on the skating.

That is, oddly enough, the aspect that seems to have been left out of this whole thing, but even though we didn’t really talk about it, there were some hints there... plus a couple of things I can only infer. The thing is that in a way I suspect skating saved Yurio’s life in more ways than one. To begin with there is the way in which he described his fascination with his first instructor, the fact that he was in awe of the control she had over her body. Considering what he had just been through, I think I can understand the fascination, and then there is the fact that when Yakov took him under his wing he basically enabled him to break with his past. It forced him to move to a different city where no one knew where he was or where he came from... and then there is also the fact that from that moment forward he was privately tutored. Under normal circumstances I would be wary of such a move, but in his particular case it may well have been a blessing. From an early age both Viktor and Yuri were kept away from other children, and while the schooling they received by the rinkside was good, it was also a little too targeted for my liking. There was no Plan B. They were being groomed to be professional athletes, they had to be able to handle the media, and they had to be able to function under the spotlight, but their chances to interact with their peers were basically nil. For most kids that is far from ideal, but what would have become of the tiny ball of rage I know as Yurio if he _hadn’t_ had the ice as an outlet, if he _hadn’t_ had a tutor that was dedicated to him, and him alone, if he’d been forced to function in a classroom setting, complete with overworked teachers, bullies, and kids he had nothing in common with? I shudder at the thought.

The thing is that the more I think about this, the more out of my depth I feel, not just because of Yuri, but also because of Viktor. We need to get on the same page, but the events keep moving too fast for us to do that, and the end result is that we keep stepping on each other’s toes. Oh, I know that probably won’t last, I know that sooner or later we are going to have to get some semblance of a handle on this thing --not because it is easy, but because the alternative is unthinkable-- but right now I would settle for knowing just what it is that we are up against.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21  
(Viktor’s POV)

It is Makkachin’s movement that first causes me to stir, then I become aware of the fact that there is someone knocking on the door. That is unexpected, especially considering that it’s not even four in the morning. I get up, look through the peephole, and see Otabek standing there. Okay, so maybe it is not so surprising after all.

I let him in, and he sets out to explain his presence here --not that that’s even necessary-- when a bleary eyed Yurio pokes his head out of his room. I find myself being totally ignored after that, as Otabek rushes past me, and places his hands on Yuri’s shoulders.

“Later,” I tell them as I head back to bed.

“Who was it?” asks Yuuri, rubbing his eyes.

“Otabek,” I reply.

“Good,” he says, settling back into my arms.

-*-*-

When I emerge from our room a couple of hours later I see Yuuri making breakfast, and proceed to set the table. A few minutes later we are joined by both Yurio and Otabek, and I’m relieved to see that Yurio is more relaxed than I remember seeing him since this mess started. That’s a relief, though in a way it is hardly surprising. After all, if there is one thing I have noticed about Otabek is how much of a calming influence he can be, though I have to admit that I was worried about how was he going to handle yesterday’s revelations. What can I say, the guy may be remarkably well centered, but he’s still only eighteen, and this is a lot to take in. Still, as Yuuri said, when it comes to that one we are likely to do more good if we take a step back, and let them deal with it themselves while trying to offer some support from the sidelines, than if we were to try to steer things. The catch? That they are fifteen and eighteen years old respectively, that even under the best of circumstances the odds that things between them will work out in the long run are pretty slim, and that these are anything but ideal circumstances. Add to that the fact that the impact of a bad break up is rarely evenly distributed, and that Yurio is in a fairly vulnerable position going in, and the end result is that there is plenty for me to worry about. On a more positive note, and as Yuuri reminded me last night, the fact that Otabek now knows what he is up against means he is more likely to be careful than he would otherwise have been, and that at the end of the day Yurio’s past _hasn’t_ changed. The pitfalls that are lying in wait today are the same that were there yesterday, the only thing that has changed is that Otabek is now aware of the fact that he is basically dancing on the edge of a cliff. It may not be fair to put that kind of pressure on him, but short of him dumping Yurio --something that would be devastating in and of itself, and that fortunately Otabek never seems to have even considered-- there is nothing anyone can do about that one.

“I apologize for barging in as I did, but...” Otabek begins, but I interrupt him.

“It’s okay, we understand,” I say, trying to reassure him, and well aware of the fact that yesterday was such a crazy day that all three of us wound up turning our phones off, so even if he tried, he couldn’t possibly have contacted us.

“I also got a text from Phichit. He says he’s keeping an eye on the media, and will let us know if anything happens on that front,” adds Yuuri, and I am deeply grateful for that fact, both because it takes another weight off our shoulders, and because of what it means in terms of the others having our backs here.

I nod at that before asking Yurio, “so, do you want to go to the rink today, or would you rather take a couple of days off?”

He seems to hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to stay within the relative safety of the apartment’s cocoon, and the knowledge that sooner or later he is going to have to brave the outside world, and that that is not one that’s likely to get easier by putting it off, that the sooner he can go back to something remotely resembling his daily routine, the less the pressure is going to build. Oh, I know Yakov is likely to keep a close eye on things, but while I somewhat trust Mila not to mess things up... well, I admit that Georgi is a different story. What can I say? He may be a good guy, but he’s never had a particularly good rapport with Yurio, and he does have a tendency to overdramatize emotional situations, which is basically the last thing we need right about now.

“I’ll go,” he finally says, and I nod at that while throwing a look Yuuri’s way.

He nods back, which is not particularly surprising, not seeing how he has been two steps ahead of me the whole time.

The good news is that the fact that Otabek is going to be tagging along means we will have some additional help, not to mention that the guy is great at deflecting attention, and that he has a calming effect on Yurio none of us can hope to match. Still, there is a part of me that can’t help but to feel that by going to the rink we have to gear to go into battle, and if that is hard for me, I don’t even want to try to imagine how that feels from Yurio’s perspective. Yes, it has to be done, there is no way around that, but that doesn’t mean he is looking forward to it, and while he is doing his best to act like all of this is perfectly normal, it is anything but.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22  
(Yurio’s POV)

The moment Beka rests his hands on my shoulders... it’s like being grounded. I drop my head on his chest, and then he pulls me against his side and leads me back to my room.

I feel the need to say something, to apologize somehow. I know I should have given him more of a heads up than ‘there’s a shitstorm coming, but I can’t talk about it. Sorry about that!’ and yet here he is, and instead of being mad... I shake my head. I know I’m not being rational. I know that if our positions were reversed I would have jumped on the first plane and headed straight to Almaty, just as he seems to have jumped on the first plane to St. Petersburg, but our positions are not reversed, and I’m having a hard time being rational.

He strips down to his underwear, lays down on my bed, and motions for me to join him. I curl up next to him, relieved by the fact that he isn’t asking questions, or pushing me to share my darkest secrets, in fact he hasn’t said a single word since he got here, not to me anyway. After dealing with Viktor and Katsudon that is definitely a relief. I close my eyes, and allow myself to fall asleep.

-*-*-

As usual it is my stomach that, in response to a signal from my nose, reminds me that it is overdue for a refueling. As I open my eyes I see Beka smiling down at me.

“Hello, sleepyhead,” he says.

“‘llo,” I mutter, wishing I could disregard my stomach’s growling, and go back to sleep, but yesterday I was so stressed that I could hardly keep anything down, and it seems like today my body has decided to put its foot down, so I get up, and together with Beka we join Viktor and Katsudon at the breakfast table.

There’s a bit of meaningless chit chat. It’s not like we are dancing around the issues, not quite, but luckily for the time being they seem to be willing to let it go. I hesitate for a moment when Viktor mentions the possibility of staying away from the rink for a couple of days. On the one hand I have to admit it is tempting, especially now that Beka is here, but at the same time it does feel like a rather lame attempt to put off the inevitable. Okay, so if the press is laying in wait maybe putting it off until the story has died down a little would be a good idea, but even if they are I don’t want to make it look like I’m hiding. Funny, up until now I haven’t even thought about checking my phone, but the truth is that after everything that has happened I am almost afraid to look.

Rather reluctantly I turn it back on, and right away the blasted thing gets flooded with thousands of notifications. Most of them are background noise from social media, and those can be easily dismissed, but even after that they number in the hundreds. Realizing that trying to sort through that lot would take me the whole fucking morning, I decide to leave it till later... of course, by putting it off I know the pile is bound to get even more unmanageable, but it can’t be helped. Still, and even though a part of me feels a little weird at the thought, the fact that Phichit is keeping an eye on the whole situation is a relief. No, I don’t know the guy particularly well --hell, I had never really met him prior to the Grand Prix final-- but I do know he is one of Katsudon’s closest friends, and a sort of mad genius when it comes to this kind of stuff. Putting my phone down I proceed to get ready.

-*-*-

Arriving at the rink does feel a little awkward, but having Beka there does serve to keep me grounded. No, the guy doesn’t usually say much, but there is something about him that feels incredibly reassuring. That, and that I usually have the feeling that he knows what is going on without being told, like when he arrived earlier today. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t act like he was walking on eggshells either, and that was incredibly reassuring. He didn’t even hesitate to strip and get in bed with me, not that we did anything, he just held me as I fell asleep, which is something that hasn’t exactly come easy since this whole mess started.

The thing is that while I know what to expect out of Beka, Viktor, and Katsudon --that I even know what to expect out of Yakov-- Georgi and Mila are a different story. Luckily they both give me a wide berth as I get ready, and then the moment my skates are on my feet I feel better. It’s like my armor is back in place, and then, after warming up, I step onto the ice. It feels like coming home, and here I finally feel ready to face the world. I skate lazily for a while, just relishing the sound of my blades as I wait for Yakov to start yelling at me to focus, but he doesn’t. Still, eventually I force myself to pull my head out of my ass. I mean, the whole point of me being here today was to show everyone that nothing has changed, and while I can see that Georgi is still struggling to figure out what to do with himself, Mila is failing miserably at pretending that things aren’t awkward at all.

Okay, so maybe I’m not being entirely fair because considering the magnitude of the information dump she got yesterday, she’s doing okay. In fact she’s doing a hell of a lot better than I would be if our positions were reversed... it’s just that this whole situation feels weird as fuck, and that if there is one thing I don’t need is this fucking awkwardness on the ice. The ice is our home, and if I want us to move past this I am going to have to give her a hand. I may not like it, but the best way to keep her from treating me as a fucking victim is by showing her that I’m not broken, and in order to do that I’m going to have no choice but to meet her half way.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23  
(Yuuri’s POV)

My position at the rink is rather unique, but today that does give me an unusual bit of freedom. It is also less unique than it would normally be, as Otabek is with us. The thing is that while I am accepted, and Yakov has no qualms about yelling at me like he yells at everyone else, I am not officially one of his skaters, and that does mean I can keep an eye on Yuri without getting in too much trouble. Okay, so given the circumstances I would probably get a pass even if I were one of his skaters, but that does take away some of the pressure.

The thing is that as soon as Yuri sets foot on the ice I can see him relax. That’s not exactly surprising, but it is still reassuring. I am still thinking about that when Mila approaches me.

“Do you have a list of names?” she asks, point blank.

“A list of names?” I repeat, not quite knowing what she means.

“‘Cause if you do, I want you to save one for me,” she growls, and I have to shake my head at that.

“No names, unfortunately,” I reply.

“Damn,” she mutters before heading back into the ice, seemingly determined to go annoy Yuri. I smile at that. Watching her reminds me of the day back when I was seven when Mari got a black eye after getting into a fight with some kids who had been picking on me. When I asked her why she’d done it, she said it was because she was my sister, and that meant no one got to hurt me but her. A big sister prerogative, she called it, and watching Mila interact with Yuri I have to admit that it fits.

Well, at least that’s one we can be sure is not going to treat him like he’s going to break. That doesn’t mean there’s not going to be some awkwardness, but it is still a weight off my shoulders. Seeing that Otabek is also watching the scene I approach him, determined to take advantage of the opportunity to have a talk with him.

“How are you?” I ask, rather lamely.

“Okay, I guess.”

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” I insist, still looking for an opening.

He seems to hesitate for a moment, then he says, “I may not have been aware of the details, but I’ve suspected for a while that there was something in Yuri’s past, so...” he trails off.

“Why?” I ask, somewhat taken aback.

“His eyes,” he says with a shrug, and I realize that that’s all the information I’m going to get. I also realize that his previous statement represents the longest sentence I have ever heard him utter. I study him for a moment, suddenly realizing how little I know of him, and how much of a blind spot that is. Still, his statement does fit into my mental image of Otabek as someone who tends to keep his thoughts to himself, but sees everything, and is deeply aware of everything that is going on around him... a fact that makes him the perfect foil for our angry kitten.

Well, the good news is that neither Mila nor Otabek are likely to become a problem. The bad news is that neither of them was my main concern for today either... in fact Otabek wasn’t even in the picture, as I didn’t expect him to be here at all. The point is that in my mind that particular honor had always been reserved for Georgi, who also happens to be the member of the team I feel least comfortable with. No, he’s not a bad guy, and he does care about Yuri in his own way, but he has a tendency to overdramatize things, which tends to be a problem when what you are trying to do is to keep those same things from spiraling out of control. In addition to that there is also the fact that, out of the whole team, he is the one who seems to be struggling the most to adjust to my being here, and that makes it that much harder for me to even approach him.

Oh, in a way I do understand where he’s coming from, and I know he has always been the one who has had the hardest time getting out from under Viktor’s shadow. As a woman Mila doesn’t really have to worry about competing with him, and ever since Yakov took him under his wing Yuri has been groomed to be ‘the next Viktor Nikiforov’. That means that he has known all along that at the end of the day his time will come, but Georgi is Viktor’s age, and that has caused him to spend his whole life being treated as second best, knowing that he would never be The Star he so desperately wanted to be. True, I’m not sure he would have been able to become one of the world’s top skaters even if Viktor hadn’t been there --it’s not like he has been consistently taking home the silver, or anything like that-- but how much would he have been able to achieve if he’d had Yakov’s undivided attention? I don’t know, all I know is that, having been relegated to a minor role on the ice, he has long relied on passion and drama to bring attention to himself... and then Viktor went and kissed me in front of the whole world, making me the other half of ice skating’s most prominent couple, and taking the spotlight from Georgi even in that regard. I shake my head at that, realizing that I’ve allowed my mind to wonder. It’s just that Georgi is a nut I’m still trying to crack. I may have a general idea as to where he’s coming from, but I am still looking for an opening, and while up until now that has been a minor annoyance, this whole situation with Yuri has brought with it a new sense of urgency.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24  
(Viktor’s POV)

Over the past couple of days we have fallen into a sort of routine. In fact it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that we are all skating around the issues, not that that’s particularly surprising. On a more positive note there is the fact that the story seems to be dying down a little, maybe not as fast as I would have liked it to, but it seems like most reporters got the message that it would be in their best interest to just back off... and that the ones who didn’t got a not-so-friendly reminder from their higher ups. The fact that it is the off season is another small blessing, as it means that this time of the year our interactions with the press are fairly limited, and that figure skating is not expected to feature prominently in the sports pages. It also means that Otabek can stay with us for a couple of weeks. Oh, he’s still training, and Yakov has agreed to keep an eye on him on his coach’s behalf --which considering how mad he was in the aftermath of the whole _Welcome to the Madness_ thing is in itself a small miracle-- but at this time of the year we are not usually working on specific choreographies, or anything like that. Of course, the fact that we are not yet working on our choreographies doesn’t mean we are not thinking about them, and in that regard the fact that Otabek is here... well, it is one of those things that makes me wonder if I should be getting ready for Yakov’s demise. Yes, Otabek is a good man, sensible, quiet and loyal, but there’s no getting around the fact that he is also a DJ, and the one who introduced Yurio to Welcome to the Madness in the first place, and more than once I have caught them talking about music, only to grow suspiciously quiet the moment they become aware of my presence. Again, for any other pair of teens that would be par for the course, but considering what we do for a living, and where our minds are this time of the year, I seriously doubt it is anywhere near that innocent.

Of course, I also know that, in light of everything that has happened, something like Agape won’t cut it for the next season. In fact that is another one of those aspects where the events of the past week or so can turn out to be a blessing in disguise. It’s not just that, like Yuuri says, it made us aware that we were about to walk straight into a minefield, it is also likely to force Yakov to give Yurio a bit more control over his own image which, truth be told, is a lot trickier than it seems... especially considering how young Yuri actually is. In fact that one goes to the heart of a problem inherent to figure skating as a whole: the fans may have gone crazy over the whole _Welcome to the Madness_ thing, but at the end of the day Yurio is still at that stage of his career in which his top priority has to be to cement his position as a top contender, as someone who is more than a flash in the pan, and when it comes to doing that the only opinions that really matter are those of a handful of judges who tend to be rather conservative by nature --who see themselves as the keepers of all that’s holy about our sport-- and who are likely to find that kind of display more than a little off-putting.

Now try to get a hard-headed soon-to-be-sixteen-year-old with authority issues to understand that.

Okay, so maybe I’m not being entirely fair here. I know that, difficult as he may be at times, when it comes to his skating Yurio is dead serious, that he is well aware of the ins and outs of the regulations, and that he knows how the game is played... that he never would have dreamt of turning something like _Welcome to the Madness_ into his official program. He just went over Yakov’s head when it came to his exhibition, but the thing is that at the end of the day our programs, if they are going to mean anything, have to be built around a story. The ability to do that is one of Yuuri’s greatest strengths... and given how serious the current situation happens to be, there is no question in my mind as to the fact that we are going to have to figure out a way to weave it into Yurio’s performance. The question is how. Yes, so far we have done everything within our power to get the media to back off, to leave him alone, and in that regard bringing this whole mess into the ice would be asking for trouble, but on the other hand it is the one place where I know Yurio can make his voice heard in his own terms, where he can tell his tale in a language that is familiar to him... and if that means helping him take over both of his choreographies for the upcoming season, so be it.

I swallow hard at that, knowing that --between my return to the ice, and my duties as Yuuri’s coach-- I am stretched pretty thin already, but as much as I respect Lilia, I know she is the wrong person to handle this one. She sees her pupils as clay that is to be molded, she demands total obedience... she expects submission, and while last season Yuri’s thirst for victory was such that he was willing to go along, that shouldn’t be the price he has to pay. What drew him to skating in the first place was the fact that it was a way for him to reclaim control over his own body, and while it is true that we have to put ourselves in the hands of our coaches and choreographers, to say nothing of the army of specialists that stand behind most professional athletes, there is a line there that needs to be drawn, and it is my job to help Yuri do just that.

I smile when I realize that ‘Control’ is the perfect theme for Yuri’s upcoming season... and, unlike what was the case with Agape, it is one I suspect he will be more than happy to get behind.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25  
(Yurio’s POV)

Saying goodbye to Otabek was hard , but after two weeks his stupid coach decided to put his foot down, and told him to get his ass back to Almaty. Having nothing better to do, I check my phone, wanting to know what the press is saying. I enter my name into Google news. Yes, both Viktor and Katsudon have suggested that I lay low for a while, and except for a few selfies I uploaded to Instagram I’ve been doing just that, but fuck, I’m curious. I click on some of the first results, and while I really wish my name weren’t there, well, I have to admit that those stories could have been a lot worse. Apparently none of the vultures wanted to come across as heartless... and for the most part Viktor’s threats seem to have paid off, because those top hits are well over a week old. It is when I sort things by date, and check out some of the more recent stories, that a somewhat disturbing pattern begins to emerge. I frown at that, and that frown deepens when I check my private messages.

I contemplate the situation for a moment, wondering what to do. A part of me wants to tell the creeps to just fuck the hell off, but then my stupid common sense kicks in, and reminds me that this falls under the heading of dealing with the media, that replying would be like adding fuel to the fire, and that, if I don’t want to make an even bigger mess, I have no choice but to go to Viktor. What we are trying to do here is kill the story, not make it bigger.

I find him in the kitchen ‘helping’ Katsudon, and while the two of them are being gross -as usual-- I know this is not the time for me to say anything about it, so I call Viktor’s name, and hand him my phone.

-*-*-

So I’m waiting behind the scenes as Viktor stands in front of the press corps, who seems to have flocked to the place the moment he called for a press conference to address some details ‘regarding the Yuri Plisetsky situation’. The problem is that the old geezer didn’t really tell me much of anything, he just told me not to worry, that he would take care of it, so here I am, not knowing what the fuck is going on... or how the hell are we supposed to deal with this.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, there are a few things I’d like to address,” he begins before going on. “First of all I would like to thank you for the restrain and professionalism you have shown in dealing with this story. I know holding back hasn’t necessarily been easy, and I wanted to let you know that I do appreciate your willingness to respect Yuri’s privacy... which brings me to the current situation: while for the most part the members of the press have been behaving in an extremely professional manner, we seem to be having a problem we failed to foresee: there are a number of activists and NGOs dealing with human trafficking and the like who seem to be convinced that when we requested respect for Yuri’s privacy, we didn’t mean them, after all they are the ‘good guys’, and we are supposed to be on the same side. Some of these groups have been using his name in an indirect fashion, others have gone so far as to try to contact him directly, asking him to become their public face. Now let me make one thing perfectly clear: while we appreciate the work you do, this is unacceptable. We have asked that Yuri’s privacy be respected, and yes, that does include you, so going forward I would like you to understand that any attempt at using his name as click bait may result in our calling you out publicly for your blatant disrespect for Yuri’s rights as a victim, and that given that he is a minor, Yuri cannot sign a contract, or accept an official position within your organization, without my explicit approval. That means that any attempt at getting in touch with him by going over my head will result in your organization being effectively blacklisted until he turns eighteen. Now, that doesn’t mean he is not interested in taking a more active role in the fight against sexual exploitation and human trafficking, it just means that now is not the time for him to do that, and that if and when he chooses to take a more active role, he won’t be working with an organization that has disrespected his rights as a victim, one that is willing to put its own gains above his well-being... one that is itching to use him just as those men did. Oh, and before I forget, for the organizations that have been either trying to contact him, or have been generously sprinkling his name into their press releases as a means to draw attention to themselves, there is no need for you to apologize, so there is no need for you to contact him again, or to keep up the name dropping. If you want us to consider you at a later date, feel free to contact me. I will not be replying to those requests, but I will keep them in mind for a time when I feel that taking a more active role won’t be detrimental to Yuri’s well-being. Are there any questions?”

-*-*-

‘Holy fuck, that was brutal!’ is the thought that keeps running through my mind. It was also pretty awesome. Viktor is known for his soft touch when dealing with the media --even the last time around he left it to Yakov to play the part of the attack dog-- but then again seeing how today he was playing the role of the ‘outraged father’, he managed to rip them to shreds, and still come out smelling like fucking roses. He even went so far as to cut off their retreat with the whole no need to apologize thing. It was, in short, a master class. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting him to do something like that, not for me anyway, and then I realize that there is this part of me that for the first time in forever actually feels like it can back down, that I am feeling safer than I have in... forever basically. I have the Old Geezer and I have the Katsudon, I don’t have to fight alone. That is a strange notion, one that is going to take some getting used to. It is also one that scares the crap out of me.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26  
(Yuuri's POV)

I look at the calendar, realizing that the time has come for us to figure out what we are going to do. Oh, we’ve known all along that Yuri’s birthday was coming up, it’s just that with everything that has happened... well, let’s just say that the planning had fallen by the wayside, and leave it at that. Now we have little more than a week to take care of the details, and we still don’t have a clue as to what we are supposed to do. It’s his first birthday without his grandfather, and things have been so crazy that Yuri has barely had the time to mourn. Still, that does nothing to change the fact that chances are that on his birthday his grandfather’s absence is going to hit him like a ton of bricks... and that in turn brings me to our three choices.

The first one would be to try to ignore it, taking our cue from the fact that he hasn’t even mentioned it. Yes, I know that anything we do to mark the occasion is going to spotlight his grandfather’s absence, so there is a part of me that can’t help but to think that maybe the best thing would be to pretend that his birthday is just another day, but to my mind that feels wrong on so many levels. I want to drill it into his head that we are happy to have him here, that he is worth celebrating... besides we are living with Viktor, and there’s no way I am going to get him to let it go.

Option number two would be to do something with his rink mates, maybe a surprise party with Yakov, Lilia, Mila and Georgi. I smile at the mental image of Yakov with a party hat on his head and a blowout whistle between his lips... and then I try to imagine what would Phichit do with such a picture. The problem is that the one person I am sure Yuri would want to have with him is Otabek, but seeing how he just got back home after spending two weeks with us, and that he only went back because his coach put his foot down, the chances that he’ll be allowed to join us are basically nil. Yes, it would be wonderful for Yuri to have his boyfriend here with him full time, but Otabek has his own career to worry about, and that means his would be yet another critical absence for Yuri to resent.

Option number three would be for the three of us to fly to Japan for a week or so to get away from it all, and to celebrate with my family... with Yuuko and the triplets. That would also go a long way towards forcing us to break free from our daily routine, which might in turn go a long way towards mitigating the impact of his grandfather’s absence. Oh, I won’t deny that that particular choice does have a somewhat selfish side to it, as I would love to have an excuse to go home for a few days, but that does nothing to detract from the fact that ever since the story broke, my family has been kind of frantic. Whether he realizes it or not, the fact is that they adopted Yurio the moment they met him, and while I have tried to reassure them that he is doing as well as can be expected, I suspect that there’s a part of them that won’t believe me until they see him... and I think he would benefit from knowing that it’s not just us, that he now has a whole clan backing him up. Yes, he has always been close to his rink mates, and rinks do have a way of building their own families, but it’s not the same, and considering what I have learned about his past, I don’t think Yurio has much experience being embraced by a more traditional family. Let’s face it, his mother’s notion of mothering left much to be desired, and while the woman in question is long gone, the damage she did lives on... and in that regard giving my mom a few days to (s)mother him to her heart’s content may be our best bet to undo some of that damage.

Okay, so at the end of the day we have three choices. The first one is not much of a choice, so it can be safely discarded, but the other two are not only viable, but also mutually exclusive. We can either celebrate here with our rink mates, or we can go to Japan. What we can’t do is solve the problem by dragging Yakov, Lilia, Mila and Georgi to Japan with us, and that means that we are going to need some sort of compromise.

Not knowing what else to do, I decide to share my concerns with Viktor. That is something I admit I have been somewhat reluctant to do. It’s not that I don’t value his input, it’s just that I knew that the moment I brought him up to speed things would spin completely out of control, so I’m not surprised by the glint of excitement I see in his eyes the moment the word birthday crosses my lips. Still, as I mention my concerns, and try to weigh the pros and cons of each option, he listens.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27  
(Viktor’s POV)

I listen to Yuuri’s reasoning as best I can, even though we have a party to plan. I am also taken a little aback by the fact that I had all but forgotten about Yurio’s upcoming birthday. No, it’s not that I don’t care, it’s just that I’m really awful when it comes to keeping track of specific dates. In fact I would probably forget my own birthday if it weren’t for the fact that Christmas makes it hard to miss. Come to think of it, that may have something to do with it, as my birthday has always had a tendency to get lost in the shuffle. Still, he has a point about the fact that his grandfather’s absence is going to make this a tough one as far as Yurio is concerned. Still, it’s also his first birthday with us, so maybe we should be focusing on that... or maybe I should be focusing on the parts of Yuuri’s argument that don’t quite fit.

Oh, on the surface it all comes across as extremely rational. That, I think, is the best way to describe Yuuri’s approach to this whole mess, the problem is that at times I worry he might be taking it just a little too far. Okay, so that’s not exactly it. It’s more like I know he has issues with anxiety, and I suspect that this whole mess with Yurio has him obsessing over the possibility of making a mistake. Yes, I know the stakes are high, but Yuuri is the one who keeps reminding me of the fact that while this is news to us, it is also something Yurio has lived with since he was eight. As far as he is concerned, it is anything but new, and we are the ones who are struggling to come to terms with the latest revelations.

That would be part one. Part two would be the way in which he keeps phrasing his reasoning in the first place. Yes, he is right when it comes to the pros and cons of both choices, but a) I think that reconciling both options would be easy enough, that the main problem is that he insists on seeing them as existing in opposition to one another, and b) that he keeps talking about Yurio’s rink mates, seemingly without realizing that he is now one of them, that he has carved a niche for himself here in Russia, and that he is the only one who seems to be oblivious to that fact. That’s something I’m going to have to work at drilling into his head, but this is about Yurio, so I decide to set b aside for later, and focus on a instead.

“How about we celebrate with Yakov and the gang on his actual birthday, and then we take him back to Hasetsu for a while as a birthday present,” I suggest, and am rewarded with the most beautiful smile.

“That would be great,” he says.

“And maybe we could even stay a little longer than a week or so. In fact we might be able to stretch it into something like a month.”

“Would Yakov go for it?” asks Yuuri, sounding almost afraid to hope.

“Well, he does trust me to keep up my training on my own, and I am in charge of yours, so even though he may not be too happy about it, that shouldn’t be much of a problem. It is Yurio that is a bit of an issue, but seeing how we have custody of him, and how I’m going to be helping him with his choreographies this season anyway, if we can have access to the Ice Castle it should be possible to get him to go along...”

“Wait, what do you mean you are going to be helping him with his choreographies?”

“Oh, I never mentioned it, did I?”

“No, you didn’t... and did you at least tell him?” he asks, glaring at me.

“Um, not in so many words. It just hasn’t come up,” I say with a shrug.

“Well, don’t you think maybe you should?”

“I will.”

“So do you have any ideas?”

“A theme... and the fact that I’m not going to be developing those choreographies for him.”

“But you just told me...”

“I told you that I was going to be _helping_ him develop those choreographies,” I point out.

“Yakov and Lilia are going to have your hide for that one!” he exclaims, shaking his head.

“Which may be another advantage to doing it in Hasetsu.”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Maybe, but seeing how the theme I am considering for him is ‘Control’, it wouldn’t make sense for me to just take over.”

“Control?”

“Yes, I want it to be all about Yurio reclaiming control of his life, of his narrative... I mean, remember how he said that what drew him to figure skating in the first place was his first mentor’s control over her body?”

He nods at that.

“Well, the way I see it that’s not a bad way of describing the sport as a whole. That was what was taken from him, and it is also what he was trying to reclaim, so why not take it one step further?”

“It’s a good theme, but are you sure he’s ready for that kind of autonomy?”

“Not really, but I think it’s what he needs, so it’s worth a shot. Besides, even if it was a little crazy, you have to admit that _Welcome to the Madness_ blew the audience away, and seeing how neither Yakov nor Lilia had anything to do with that one, I think it’s safe to say that he does have the basic skills to pull it off.”

“Yes, but he is only sixteen years old!”

“And not getting any younger. Listen, I know it may be a serious case of too much, too soon, but the way I see it it is still pretty early in the off-season, and that does give us a bit of leeway, so how about we go to Hasetsu, give it a month, and if it doesn’t work, there is no harm done. If we all agree that Yurio is in way over his head, I will just take those choreographies over once we get back, and Yakov won’t even have to hear about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so as you may have noticed I am not the biggest fan of author's notes out there, but right now I'm having a bit of an issue. Let me explain: we only have a few more chapters more to go in this story, at least going by my original plan, the problem is that while I had originally intended to write a sequel, I don't think that's going to happen. Simply put, even though I've done my best, I am still struggling with the characters. I just can't seem to keep them in character while dealing with the issues this fic tries to address. That brings me to my current dilemma: there is one key scene that I am yet to write for this story. It could theoretically be left out, but I think it is an important one, so my choices are to include it knowing that it is going to be left hanging, or to cut it out, so that this fic has a more rounded feel to it in the absence of that sequel. A third option would be to add a couple more chapters to this story, and deal with it at least partially, though that would cause me to have to rethink my end point, and I'm still not sure how that would work out.
> 
> In other words, this is a serious case of 'Argh, this is so frustrating!' and I wanted to let you know just where things stood. Any ideas?


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28  
(Yurio’s POV)

Sixteen, today I’m finally sixteen years old, and the only thing I can think of is ‘I really wish my grandpa were here’. He is not, so I do my best to put the fucking calendar out of my mind. Well, the good news is that with everything that has happened Viktor and the goddamned Katsudon seem to have forgotten all about it ‘cause the truth is that I just don’t feel like fucking celebrating. I don’t feel like fucking skating either, but I know that if I want to live to see seventeen I better get my ass out of bed. I have training, and if I don’t want Viktor to remember, I better stick to my routine... not that Viktor would be likely to remember anyway. When it comes to that kind of details the guy is completely hopeless, though I admit I was worried about Katsudon. He notices those little things, but somehow I seem to have gotten lucky. Now I just have to make it through the day, and hope no one at the rink decides to make a fuss.

Yes, there is a part of me that is pissed by the fact that they don’t remember, but for the most part I’m just relieved. I don’t want to have to plaster a fucking smile on my face. I just want the fucking day to be over with... okay, so maybe I would like to get away and go to the cemetery. I haven’t really been there since the funeral... not that my going there is going to make much of a difference, it’s just that... it’s my grandpa, and no matter how I look at it, his not being here just feels wrong.

Oh, I’m grateful to Viktor and the Katsudon for taking me in. I know they didn’t have to do that, and I know that when they agreed to that one they never really expected the shit storm that’s been the past couple of weeks, but they not only took it in their stride, they also helped me navigate it in a way I wouldn’t have been able to if I’d been on my own. I mean, I remember the fear when Katsudon first took the phone from my hand and saw that picture, but he kept his cool, and he got Viktor to keep his cool. If they hadn’t chances are that my career would be over by now. They figured out how to defuse that bomb, when I didn’t have a clue of what to do.

Yes, standing in front of the press, and reading that statement, was a fucking nightmare, but it worked. Against all odds Viktor got the vultures to back off what might have been the story of the decade. Okay, maybe not the decade. I know the world doesn’t revolve around figure skating, but my world does, and while I am dreading how are the others going to react the next time I see them, I have to admit that, when it comes to the timing of this mess, I kind of got lucky. The story came out just before spring, and skating is a winter sport, That gives me the better part of a year.

I shake my head. The whole point of trying to ignore my birthday was to forget all about the fucking calendar, unfortunately my brain doesn’t seem to be inclined to play along. Hopefully practice will help with that... and hopefully my luck will keep. I mean, here at home I only have to worry about Viktor, who is hopeless when it comes to remembering anything, and Katsudon, who just moved here a couple of months ago, and may not even know when my birthday happens to be. At the rink I’m going to have to worry about Yakov, Georgi, and Mila, and while Yakov is not usually looking for an excuse to party, Mila is.

-*-*-

‘So far, so good,” I think to myself as I take a water break.

We’ve been here for a couple of hours now, and so far no one has mentioned the date... okay, so maybe there’s a part of me that is a little miffed by the fact that none of them cares enough to remember, but for the most part I am deeply relieved. Yes, I know that the fact that we were a few minutes late, so that Georgi and Mila were already on the ice by the time we got here might have something to do with it, but so far no one has mentioned my birthday. Oh, I’m pretty sure Yakov remembers, but he’s never been one to make a fuss. It’s just that I’m really missing my grandpa today, and while trying to keep myself busy kind of helps, whenever I stop... it hurts.

If it were any other year I would be looking forward to my grandpa’s pirozhki, but not today.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29  
(Yuuri’s POV)

Seeing how we usually go to the rink together, organizing a surprise party turned out to be one of those things that are easier said than done... in fact I had no choice but to rope Lilia into keeping the birthday boy away while we set everything up, and that in turn meant that by the time he got here Yuri was basically dead on his feet, which was not exactly ideal. Still, in the end things worked out well enough, and the look on his face... well, that one was priceless. In fact he seemed so taken aback that I actually asked Viktor what his previous birthdays had been like. I mean, I just moved here, but they have been rink mates since Yuri was ten, so I figured he would know. He didn’t.

Okay, so maybe Viktor had a point when he reminded me that back when they first met he was twenty-three, and not particularly inclined to go to a children’s party, but the thing is that from what I gather there was never such a party in the first place, that the extent of the celebration was Yuri eating pirozhki with his grandpa. Yuri didn’t go to school, he didn’t really interact with other children, and even when he did compete at the provincial level against kids his age who lived near by --before he was old enough to compete at an international level-- he was most likely cut off, surrounded by over-engaged skating parents living vicariously through their children, while he fought the world alone. He may have won gold time and time again, and been envied because he was being coached by none other than Yakov Feltsman, but I suspect that more often than not it was the silver medalist that got the hugs Yuri so desperately needed... and that brings me back to what his birthdays must have looked like: not milestones to be celebrated, but just numbers to be ticked off in a calendar signaling that he was ready to move on to the next level, and in that regard last year’s birthday was the big one, the one that said he was finally, _finally_ , old enough to compete with the seniors.

The thing is that that was a gap that was left open for a lot longer than it should have been, and now with his grandfather gone Yuri was sure no one even remembered, that was one of the things that made it possible for us to pull off the surprise part of today’s surprise party. In other words, it was yet another aspect of the fucked up mess that I have come to think of as Yuri’s upbringing. Honestly, considering how many cracks that kid seems to have fallen through over the years, the fact that he is still standing is nothing short of a miracle. I run through that list in my mind once more, and once more I find myself shuddering at the thought. It’s become a sort of daily ritual, one that at time does feed into my anxiety, as I am reminded time and time again of just how far out of my depth I really am, and then, just as I think I’m starting to come to terms with it, the list gets even longer.

Well, the good news is that with a little luck, now that we know what we are up against, we can actually stop digging. Oh, I know that for the most part there was no malice involved, not since his grandfather took over, but the situation was a complicated one, and it might have seemed easier to just sweep everything under the rug... especially since, with the exception of Yakov and Nikolai, no one really knew that there was a problem.

Yes, I understand that they were doing their best to protect Yuri’s privacy by keeping the information regarding the most sordid aspects of his past from becoming public knowledge at a time when he would have been unable to deal with it, and I also realize that they were older men operating under the assumption that kids are resilient, not to mention that everything seemed fine... but the thing with that approach is that it is one of those situations where you can’t see the pressure building up, where you may not even realize that there is a problem until it is too late, and by then the most you can do is try to pick up the pieces. How far were we from an explosion? With a little luck we’ll never know. Right now my top priority is to try to defuse this particular bomb, to release the pressure. That’s what we have been doing since the funeral in one way or another, and even though at times it seems like things are getting worse and worse, that is just a perception. We are tackling a problem we didn’t know we had when we first agreed to take Yurio in. Would our knowing about it really have made that much of a difference? I don’t think so. With Nikolai gone Yuri needed us, and there’s no way we would have turned our backs on him, that much is certain. Would not getting ambushed by his past have been preferable? Yes, but again, in light of everything else, that is just a minor issue, and the same goes for the fact that we had no choice but to do what would have been unthinkable back when Yuri was ten, and make the story public.

Okay, if I had been by myself I wouldn’t have known how to handle it, but I guess if there is one lesson that can be drawn from this whole mess is how effectively Viktor and I complement each other, and that is something we are going to need, because even though with a little luck we have now managed to stop digging, we still have to figure out how are we going to make our way out of this particular hole. Yes, today was a step in the right direction, one that hopefully went a long way towards helping Yuri realize just how many people he has in his corner, and I am fairly certain that once we get to Hasetsu my family will do its share, but that doesn’t mean things won’t get worse before they get better, and that is something I can’t allow myself to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, a fair warning: for those wanting a relatively clean end to this story, this would be a good place to stop. As I mentioned a couple of chapters ago, this story was originally going to have a sequel, but for the time being I have given up on the idea (the focus of part one was on Yuri learning that he's not alone, part two was meant to be more about dealing with the fallout). Anyway, while there are a few more chapters that I had always intended to be part of this fic, those were meant to act as a sort of bridge. At one point I did consider the possibility of eliminating them altogether, but then I decided to write them, and to include this note here, so that you can decide for yourselves whether you want to read on or not.
> 
> Take care, and thanks for reading!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30  
(Yurio’s POV)

When Viktor first told me to pack for a month in Japan I honestly thought he was kidding... I should have known better. I mean, we are talking about Viktor ‘I’m so fucking extra’ Nikiforov here, but seriously.

Okay, so I’m not denying that having a month to clear my head in light of everything that has happened feels great, and with it being the off season we can probably afford it. I stop at that, as I am suddenly hit by yet another reminder of how much has my life changed since my grandfather’s passing, because the truth is that not too long ago taking a month off like this wouldn’t really have been much of an option. Yes, the fact that I won the Grand Prix in my first year as a senior means I can actually pick and choose when it comes to my sponsors, that I no longer have to count every penny twice, and I no longer have to worry about helping my grandpa make ends meet. Hell, neither Viktor nor the Katsudon will take my money --in fact the last time I tried they both looked mortally offended-- so I’m basically freeloading, and then there is the fact that, given that the Kastudon’s parents own the fucking onsen, yeah, I can probably afford it, in fact I suspect I will be about as successful in getting Katsudon’s parents to take my money as I have been in getting Katsudon himself to do so.

Shit, that is so fucking frustrating. I’m not a kid, goddamn it! I’m used to pulling my own weight, and all this stupid coddling is driving me crazy... and speaking of kids, let’s not forget the three monkeys. Funny how I hadn’t even thought about them until they ambushed me, asking about the Grand Prix, and talking a mile a minute. Oh, they were happy to see me, and I admit that I was glad to see them too, but the thing is that I don’t know how the fuck am I supposed to act around them. Yes, I know the story is dying down, but going by the awkwardness I could see in Yuuko, and Katsudon’s parents’ reactions, it is pretty apparent that they’ve got at least an idea of what’s going on, the question is do the triplets know, and if they do how much do they know, cause let’s face it, this is one instance in which saying more than I should could get me killed.

I mean, the girls just turned seven, for fuck sake, they are too young for this shit, but at the same time I know the little demons are media fiends --in fact, if I didn’t know better, I would have sworn they were Phichit’s-- and under the circumstances that is a recipe for disaster. Yes, I know that the parenting should be left to the parents, and all that crap, but at the end of the day I am the one that brought this shit into their lives... oh, and as if that weren’t enough, there is also the fact that I don’t know Yuuko anywhere near well enough to ask her what the fuck am I supposed to do, meaning that I am likely to have to ask Katsudon to play go between.

It may not be ideal, but it is the least I can do.

-*-*-

I was still looking for a way to talk to Katsudon when the man actually approached me. Okay, so he can be ridiculously nice at times, but this is just getting ridiculous.

“What is it?” he asks.

“There... there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask ‘cause I really don’t want to fuck this up,” I admit.

“And by ‘this’ you mean?”

“What do the triplets know?” I blurt out.

“The triplets?”

“Yeah, I mean, I know they are pretty avid fans, but...”

“But they are too young, and you are worried about saying the wrong thing?”

“Something like that. I mean, they’re seven.”

“Well, the good news is that the story hasn’t really been picked up by the Japanese press, not to the extent that the Russian press did, and while the triplets do speak English --and the English language media has been following the story to a greater extent than the Japanese one-- they are not that comfortable reading it yet. In fact even when it comes to Japanese their ability to read is far behind what you would expect.”

“Wait, what?” I ask, somewhat taken aback ‘cause ‘slow’ is not the first word that comes to mind when thinking about those three.

“I know that may sound a little weird to you, but it’s not that they are behind, it’s just that you are coming at it from a different perspective. Look at it this way, in Russia a determined seven-year-old may be able to muddle through a newspaper article because once you master the alphabet reading is just a matter of practice, of stringing characters into words, but in Japan being familiar with the script means mastering the kanji, and that takes years, so newspapers are effectively out of the triplets reach. Of course, there are vloggers and podcasts they follow, plus text to speech software that can help them overcome those limitations to a certain extent, but Yuuko and Takeshi are fairly careful when it comes to monitoring the girls’ online activities. Sure, under normal circumstances a story about skating is not likely to be blocked as inappropriate, so that’s never been much of an issue, but I suspect when it comes to this particular mess anything that did more than hint at the facts in terms that would zoom well above the triplets’ heads is likely to have been filtered before they got anywhere near that far. They may know that there is something they don’t know, and I wouldn’t put it past them to try to trick you into revealing more than you should, but no, they are not likely to know the specifics... or to be in a position to even begin to imagine anything that is anywhere near the truth.”

“You mean to tell me that the three little monsters still haven’t figured out how to turn the safe search off?” I ask, the disbelief clear in my voice.

“It’s more like they know that if they are caught turning it off they will have their phones confiscated, and their net access taken away for however long their parents deem appropriate... and that that’s one of those rules they know better than to defy,” he says with a smile.

Okay so that makes more sense, I think to myself, as I let out a breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31  
(Yuuri’s POV)

I look at Yuri, wondering how much should I say here. Yes, on the one hand I am touched by his concern for the triplets --and he is right to suggest that we should probably have come up with some sort of strategy to deal with them should they ask any questions-- but on the other there is no getting around the fact that, while it is intermingled with other issues, Yuri has just presented me with a golden opportunity to push a little, to address something I have been trying to find a way to approach pretty much from day one, and the bottom line is that, even if the timing is not ideal, considering the subject matter it was never going to be. The problem is that what I have here is an opening I wasn’t really expecting, and I don’t want to screw this up.

Okay, so there is also the fact that in trying to set his mind at ease, I may just have slammed that door shut on my own face, but that had to be done.

“So you are worried about the triplets?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, they’re seven!”

“And that’s too young?”

“Of course it’s too fucking young to know about this shit! What kind of fucked up question is that?”

“You know they are going to find out sooner or later, right?” I say, hating myself for it, but knowing that at the end of the day it is something Yuri is going to have to come to terms with.

“And it won’t be when they’re thirty,” he finishes for me.

“Well, it might be... if you combine their ages, that is, and even then I have to say that trying to keep this from them until they are ‘thirty’ would be pushing it.”

“Very funny.”

“So how old do you think they should be?”

“I don’t want them to find out at all!” he snaps.

“I know, and this is something we’ve gone over a number of times already: going public means that you don’t get to pick and choose who knows about your past, and while that is not fair, under the circumstances it is still the lesser evil.”

“And with pretty much everyone else I can deal, but the triplets...”

“They’re like the annoying little sisters you never had?”

“Yeah...”

“Well, maybe I could ask Yuuko how do she and Takeshi intend to handle this. After all she is their mother, and even though the girls are a little young now...”

“A _LITTLE_ young?!?!? They are seven goddamned years old, for fuck’s sake!”

“Meaning that they are only one year younger than you were the first time your mother...” I trail off, still reluctant to even say the words, and knowing that I’m on fairly thin ice here.

“No, they’re not!” he exclaims, almost reflexively, and I can’t help but to smile at the ridiculousness of that statement, not that the situation is particularly funny.

“You were eight,” I remind him.

“Still that doesn’t mean...” he begins, but then he stops himself as his brain finally catches up to the undeniable fact that seven does indeed come right before eight.

“You had never really thought about it like that, had you?”

“But they are so little!” he insists, still glaring at me.

“Yes, they are little, but so were you,” I point out. In fact that is one of the gaps Viktor and I have been struggling with from the moment we first saw that picture, and it is one that was brought about by our different perceptions of how little he actually was. Oh, on a rational level I know where he’s coming from, I know that things always happen to us in the present tense, and when they do we always have our whole lives behind us. That now now is as much a now as now was ten years ago, and that can make it hard for us to realize how much has changed, or how young we once were, but in this particular instance his horror at the thought of a trio of seven-year-olds he has come to care for learning about something he lived through when he was barely a year older than they are might just be the thing we need to get him to understand why is everyone freaking out to the extent that they are, because that is another thing we have been trying to overcome: Yuri’s unwavering conviction that we are blowing this thing completely out of proportion.

As far as he is concerned this is something that has been there since long before he could fully understand what ‘it’ was... what had actually been done to him. It’s like a tree that has had no choice but to grow around a bicycle or a boulder, only now the time has come for him to acknowledge the presence of that foreign object, and if it is something as innocuous as the triplets’ presence that forced him to do so, so much the better.

It’s like what I told Viktor shortly after we learned of his past: there is a limit to how far the coping mechanisms he developed as a child can take him because there are things he buried a long time ago that sooner rather than later he is going to have to reexamine, and if a mental image of the triplets being in a similar position is what it takes to get him to understand just how wrong what happened to him actually was, I would count that as a blessing. No, it is not an image I am more comfortable with than he is --in fact it is one I am even now trying to evict from my mind-- but at the end of the day I know that, unlike the image I saw of an eight-year-old Yurio, that one exists only in my imagination, that the triplets are safe... or at least as safe as they can ever be.

Yes, Yuuko is not an addict, she wouldn’t hesitate to give her life for her daughters’ sake, and Japan is a lot safer than Russia in that regard, but that’s not really the point. The point is that, if that picture of Yurio has taught me anything, it is that the horrors can be much closer than we would expect them to be.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32  
(Viktor’s POV)

Getting settled back in Hasetsu has been... different. It also feels disturbingly like coming home. Okay, so maybe that part is not so disturbing. It’s just that Yuuri’s family is so accepting, and that if the last time we were here they seemed to have adopted Yurio as one of their own... well, now I’m beginning to realize that I had seen nothing yet. Oh, on a scale of one to ten they are careful not to push their smothering past eleven, but I can see that Hiroko is just itching to wrap him in cotton, and I would love to see what Mari would do if a journalist were to come within a mile of him. In fact I suspect Yuuri and I are going to need a crowbar to get them to let go of Yurio when the time comes for us to go back to Russia. No, we are not a threat, and they know it, but we are in Hiroko’s territory here, Yuuri as been supplanted as the baby of the family, and at the end of the day even I know that getting between a mama bear and her cub is a really bad idea.

Yes, being here is nice, and in a way it all boils down to a sense of family and of permanence that the rink can’t really hope to match. The rink may be home, and our rink mates may act as a sort of surrogate family, but it is a temporary home at best. It is a family we join when we are chosen to train there, and even if the friendships last a lifetime, it is also a family we know we are bound to leave behind once we retire, but here... here is a sense of continuity I don’t think I ever experienced before. Just like Yurio, I moved away from my family to train when I was little, but even before that I have some vague memories of moving into a new house with my parents back when I was four. Yu-utopia, on the other hand, has been in Yuuri’s family for generations. It was here long before Yuuri and Mari were born, and if Yuuri and his parents have anything to say about it, it will be here long after they are gone. That knowledge provides a sense of safety that at times feels almost alien, and that, I suspect, is just what the doctor ordered.

It is also something Yurio had never really experienced before, so at time watching him try to navigate the current situation has been downright hilarious. No, I don’t think there’s anything he can do to get himself in trouble here --that whole having supplanted Yuuri as the baby of the family again-- but he seems to be oblivious to that fact, so our angry kitten is walking on eggshells, biting his tongue, and trying to play the model son.

Okay, so what Yuuri told me about the fact that he is worried about the possibility of traumatizing the triplets is kind of sweet --and I’ll even admit that the concern is not entirely unwarranted because, yes, while we didn’t even think about it, knowing those three I can see that we probably should have-- but I just love seeing him slip into the role of protective big brother, though I do worry about the fact that, if he’s not careful, those three are going to walk all over him... not that I am opposed to the notion of wrapping them in cotton just to make sure they are safe.

The problem is that that particular problem can be broken down into two separate problems, and while the biggest one of those --the possibility that someone might hurt the triplets like those bastards hurt Yurio-- exists only in our imaginations, the second one --the one having to do with the question of how are we supposed to deal with the triplets inevitable questions-- is all but inescapable. Inescapable, and ultimately my fault.

True, when I encouraged Yurio to go public the triplets were the furthest thing from my mind --and even if I had been thinking about them, my advice would almost certainly have been the same because the bottom line is that we never had much of a choice-- but that does nothing to change the fact that at the end of the day I am the one that brought us to this point... and that this is an issue Yuuko and Takeshi are going to have to address, so the least we can do is work with them.

Oh, I know that doesn’t mean this is something that is bound to come up tomorrow --in fact there is a part of me that keeps reminding me that the choice was never whether or not Yurio’s story was going to go public, but rather in whose terms was it going to go public, and in that regard my insistence that he beat the blackmailers to the punch might have actually gone a long way towards minimizing the damage by keeping the details from becoming public knowledge-- but it is something that is bound to come up sooner or later, and the fact that Yurio is no longer a distant figure the triplets have only heard about, but rather a sort of surrogate big brother... well, that too is bound to make a difference.

I shake my head at that, thinking of how much has my life changed since I first came to Yu-utopia a little more than a year ago. Yes, things are a mess, there have been more twists and turns than I can count, and it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say that --at least when it comes to some aspects-- what we are dealing with is a nightmare I could never have foreseen but at the end of the day Yurio and I have a home, we have a family, and I for one wouldn’t change those for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, that's it, and thanks for reading, and sorry about the fact that the ending leaves much to be desired. As I have stated a couple of times, this began as part 1 of 2, but wound up being part 1 of 1.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I did move Yuri's grandfather from Moscow to St. Petersburg, and I also filled in the blank when it comes to the question of what was Yuuri studying (after all, in the show he does mention that he managed to graduate from college), but other than that I'm trying not to stray too far from canon.


End file.
